


The Setters

by DeathandDespairQueen



Category: Haikyuu!!, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: ...., Alternate Universe - Heathers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American setting, Bombs, Heathers AU, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Kuroken is main ship, M/M, Murder, No Volleyball, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Violence, Winky Face, badboy!Kuroo, dont be surprised, fake suicide, it takes place in 2016, its heathers but haikyuu!!, maybe some volleyball, other ships are all implied, so like, sorry lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-17 22:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11278083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathandDespairQueen/pseuds/DeathandDespairQueen
Summary: Kenma Kozume is a part of the school's most popular clique. But he really REALLY doesn't want to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hhnnngggnNNNNHNHNNGN 
> 
> i just really love heathers and i couldn't think of something to pair it with for an au so???? this??? I guess???? I suppose this has probably been done like 1 million times already but like...... i want 2 do it....
> 
> Veronica: Kenma  
> Heather Chandler: Oikawa  
> Heather Duke: Sugawara  
> Heather McNamara: Akaashi  
> JD: Kuroo  
> Kurt: Bokuto  
> Ram: Iwaizumi  
> Betty Finn/Martha: Hinata and Kageyama
> 
> this will probably follow the movie closer than the musical???? just because i've only seen the musical once or twice but I'm a fucking asshole and I watch Heathers the movie every weekend. Haha. Hm.  
> also the school is gonna be more......americanized? because fuk me

The sound of leather bouncing off the pavement echoes in the quiet neighborhood. "Damn. Missed again." The setter swiped soft bangs away from his eyes and backed away from his position beside the net. "Next setter up." Another absurdly pretty boy moves into his place and waits for the previous setter to set him up. The ball thumps against his hands and sails into the air. The first setter leaps into the air and takes the swing. The ball bounces to the pavement once more. "Damn! You're aim must be off, Keiji."

"I think it's your timing, Koushi." The white haired setter rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to rebuff only to be cut off by a harsh shove on his shoulder. "Move. It's my turn. Koushi. Set for me." He nodded submissively and stepped into position. The ball goes up and Tooru runs in for the spike. He hits it with a jarring  _SLAP!_ and it sails over the net and right into the bleached blond head poking up over the grass. Kenma grunted in pain but retained his trademark uninterested expression. "That's how it's done, boys." 

A piercing beep splits through the air and Kenma's eyes snapped open. 7:15 AM. September 2nd. He was going to be late to school. 

* * *

 The hallway was always crowded, even during lunch hours. Kenma grabbed his favorite spot underneath the main staircase.

_Dear Diary_

_Oikawa told me that he teaches people real life. He said "Real life sucks losers like you dry. If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn how to fly." So I asked him "You'll teach me how to fly?" And he told me ye-"_

A knee slammed into the side of his head. His hand jolted and scratched a long line of ink across the words on the page. "God, Kenma. Hurry up, Tooru wants you. Pronto." He brushed his bangs from his eyes and glared up at the two ethereal beings before him. Akaashi Keiji. Totally loaded. Lead  the cheer squad for the school volleyball team. His knee was responsible for the assault on his cranium. Akaashi was a nice boy when he needed to be but a real bitch even more often than not. "I'm kind of in the middle of something." _  
_

"Don't blame me. Back me up here, Koushi." Sugawara Koushi. Ran the yearbook committee like a mom on a mission. Rumor had it that his beauty mark was really a tattoo that his parents had paid for. He was even bitchier than Akaashi on a good day. He grabbed Kenma by the blazer and hauled him to his feet. "He really, really, really wants to talk to you. Says it's super important." 

"Fine, I'm going. Christ." Before the school year started, Kozume Kenma considered himself very laid back. Not many things would ever get him worked up. Now it seemed like every nerve in his body was on edge as his captors linked arms with him and practically dragged him through the crowded hallway to the cafeteria. It had only been two weeks and he still wasn't accustomed to the hushed whispered that peers would exchange when they passed. The ones he managed to pick up on were mostly good. Curious. A lot more bad than he would have cared for. But those rumors came with the job.

Akaashi and Suga practically used his body as a battering room to push open the cafeteria doors. All eyes were on them in seconds. Most students went back to hopelessly picking at their state rationed lunches. The most important eyes of all remained locked on the three of them. Chocolate brown eyes with a hint of mischief framed by perfectly coifed locks. His naturally pouty lips curled into a sly smile. Oikawa Tooru. Setter for the school volleyball team until a tragic accident destroyed his knee and put him out to pasture. That didn't stop him from being an award winning asshole with a rotten heart. 

"Kenma! Finally." Oikawa Tooru strutted foward. "I got my hands on one of Iwa-chan's papers and I need you to work your magic for me."

Forgeries weren't magic. They were just something he had done to sharpen his skills that happened to get him pretty far in life. At least they got him into the Setters. His specialty was realistic loves notes that his clique loved to use to torture the lower class students. "I'll dictate, you write. You'll need something to write on....Koushi bend over." The two locked eyes before the silver haired boy begrudgingly slumped over. 

**_"Hey hot stuff. I've been thinking about you so much lately. I wish the two of us could get together like we did back in the day. Call me and maybe we can....make up for lost time."_ **

"Put a heart after the signature and add a winky face. To make it authentic." Kenma rolled his eyes and did as he was told. The two of them straightened out again and he handed the note over. "Who's this for anyway?" Oikawa giggled. God, even his laughs sounded mildly sinister. "Oh, no one. Just our favorite freshie." He turned to gaze across the cafeteria and the other three leaned into him to get a better view. Kageyama Tobio was mid scream, swatting at his redheaded friend who had two milk straws sticking out of his nose and inching closer and closer. Akaashi let out a slight chuckle. "I forgot about that. Kageyama totally had a HUGE crush on Iwaizumi back in middle school! It was disgusting."

"I know. Which is why we're going to slip this into his bag. Maybe when he reads it he'll make an even bigger fool of himself than he did back then." Every inch of his body told him to yank the note back and tear it to shreds. He had written countless notes just like this that had no doubt ended in embarrassment in these few weeks. But they had never hand delivered heart break to someone he knew. "I...I can't do this. Not to Tobio. You know that this will destroy him." He took the note back.

Laughter died in the boys' throats. The three of them glanced back and forth between the three of them. "I'm sorry. I'm confused. Last time I checked you were one of the most popular boys here, not a fresh out of middle school, acne splattered, video gaming loser. Unless I'm wrong and I didn't reach out, like the incredibly good person that I am, and save you."

"I don't have anything against Kageyama. I can't do this."

"You don't have anything for him, either!" He reached for the note. Kenma jerked his hand out of reach. "God whatever! We can talk about you and your weird aversion to fun later." He seemed to relax a bit. "You know what time it is?" All three Setters let out a collective groan. Lunch time poll.

Bokuto Koutarou dug an elbow into his friend's side. "Hey. Check it out. Wouldn't it be righteous to be in the middle of an Akaashi Keiji/ Sugawara Koushi sandwich?" A glint of lust flickered in his eyes. Iwaizumi rolled his own. Though he wouldn't be opposed to the idea of getting between the sheets with a Setter. Or two.  "Punch it in!" The two bump fists. 

"C'mon! Help feed the world with your leftovers! You throw out pound of perfectly good food every single lunch hour! Your tots could be feeding starving kids in Africa!" The constant call to action was little more than white noise to students as they sifted through their food or dumped it in to the trash cans just feet away from the "FEED THE WORLD" booth. Kenma shot the haggard activist a sympathetic look as the clique pushed past him and settled into their usual table. "So," Akaashi starts, "what's today's question?"

"Yeah, what's the question?" Suga cuts in, mouth stuffed with tater tots. Oikawa sneered and rolled his perfect eyes. "You were in study hall with me when I thought of it, Koushi!"

"I forgot." There was a noisy rustling as their ruthless leader shuffled through his surprisingly messy bag and fished out a crumpled piece of notebook paper adorned with his loopy scrawl. Akaashi tapped a manicured finger to the paper and gave a quizzical look. "This wouldn't happen to be the crazy thing you were babbling about in the group chat last night, is it?" Kenma hardly ever checked the chat. It gave him too much anxiety to constantly receive push notifications for the gossip and gab he already got over 8 hours of the day during school hours. Once again he was completely lost to what the popular boys were talking about. 

"You know it. I told Mattsun and Makki if they gave me another political and/or internet meme to talk about I was going to spew chunks. I think my idea is far better anyways. Come on Kenma, you're on poll duty today." He hadn't even made a dent in his own lunch before the taller senior was hauling him to his feet and dragging him along behind him like a mother toting around a cranky child. Students looked at them with a mix of nervousness and little glimmers of hope that maybe,  _just maybe_ the Setters would stop and ask for their two cents on whatever trivial query they had in the chamber today. They never did. 

Amongst the thousands of eyes bearing into him, one pair stood out above the rest. Piercing yellow, half hidden by a messy nest of bed head. A lazy smile stretched across a fresh face. When did they get a new student? The lanky boy raised one eyebrow, his smile widened. He gave a curt wave. Before the wave could be returned Oikawa gave a particularly hard yank and snapped his newest follower back into reality. 

As they passed, a hand reached out and tugged on Kenma's sleeve. He turned to stare into the wide, happy eyes of his (former) best friend. "Hinata. I didn't see you there." The redhead smiled up at his pudding haired friend. "I'm sorry I didn't make it your get together last weekend. I was....." he trailed off before he could go into the grody details of holding back Akaashi's hair as he emptied the copious amounts alcohol from his stomach and Sugawara's hair as he did the same for a completely different reason. "It's fine. I asked your Mom and she said you had a big date or something? I think I'd ditch my own party for a date."

"Don't say that. I shouldn't have blown you off. How about I make it up to you tonight." He placed his hand on Hinata's shoulder. "The three of us could watch some Netflix. I'll pick up popcorn duty." 

"We'd like that."

Oikawa stalked back over and once again hauled Kenma away prematurely. "I was talking to them."

"Who cares? You're not their babysitter and I'm not yours. We are on a time crunch!" 

Michimiya glanced up from her tray and frowned at the approaching pair. "Oikawa is coming over here." Daichi let out a groan. "Shit." Asahi and Kiyoko busied themselves with stuffing their faces, Michimiya quickly following their example. You can't answer one of those stupid polls if you're mouth is full, after all. Before Daichi could take the leap and join in his friends in safety the two vultures were upon them. "Sawamura! Love the jacket. Is it new?" Before he could answer Oikawa held up his clipboard and blocked him from view.

"Get this. You win 5 million dollars from the lotto. Same day whats-his-name hands you the check....." He paused for dramatic affect. He had a thing for dramatic affect. "Aliens land on Earth and tell you their gonna blow it up in 3 days! What do you do?" Another dumb alien question. This was the third one since school started, and school had only been in session for three weeks. Oikawa's designer loafers tapped impatiently as they mulled the question over. 

"That's easy. I would hand it over to my Dad. He's great with finances, he could probably double it in a week." Kiyoko swallowed her mouthful. "You only have three days. I think I would give it all to charity. Every cent." Kenma scoffed. What could any charity possibly do with any amount of money in those three days. It's not like anyone in need would be hanging around much longer anyways. "You're beautiful." The word is laced with a nearly invisible venom that the country club kids don't pick up on. But Oikawa definitely does. Once again he was manhandling the smaller boy and towing him away from the table. "Good riddance."

"If you're going to openly be a dick-"

"I'm just sick of talking to the same people every week. Why can't we talk to people who's parents don't rake in a 5 figure salary each year?" 

"Do I look like Mother Theresa to you? If I did, maybe I wouldn't mind talking to tiny tot freshies, or the geek squad!" He jabbed a finger in the direction of some particularly nerdy looking freshman, causing one of them to choke on his milk and splutter out "Setter number one just looked at me!" 

"Doesn't it bother you that everybody in this school thinks your a shark?" 

"Like I give a shit. They all adore me or they fear me. You're just lucky that I thought you were cute enough to make you into my successor, or you and your little 'friends' would be sharkbait during feeding frenzy." Oikawa Tooru was intimidating. Every word from his mouth was another bullet that he could use against you at any time and place. Kenma was not nearly as intimidating. But by God was he stubborn. The air fizzed with electric tension as they stared each other down. "I'm taking you to one of the best parties in town tonight and you want to brush up on your conversation skills with the dregs of society? Fine. Have it your way. But don't come crying to me when you're choking on your words in front of the upperclassmen." With that he turned on his heel and begrudgingly stalked over to a different table. 

Yamaguchi tensed up as the most popular boy in school relayed the absurd query to his group. "I-I think I'd go to Egypt." His eyes flick across the table where his blond friend sits, who shrugs in return. "With someone special." 

"I would throw a big end of the world get together!" Hinata replied. "I might even invite some girls. O-or guys."

"I would give some hot actor a million dollars to sit on my face and have 'im ride like the Kentucky Derby!" Iwaizumi elbows his friend's ribs sharply. Through a yelp of pain Bokuto manages to rasp "Should be paying me, though."

"That's the most spooky-ass question I've ever heard."

"This is important. Taxes are only the beginning-"

"You go to the zoo and get a lion. Then you shove a remote control bomb up it's butt-"

"-social security, legal fees...."

"-you push the button on the bomb. You and the lion die as one." 

The air filled with silence as Tanaka mulled the question over in his head. ".....What?" 

The pair returned to their table to find the remaining Setters pressed shoulder to shoulder, giggles bubbling from their throat. If Kenma didn't know any better he would have guessed they were drunk or high. Or they were scheming. The latter was more likely. Oikawa settled in across from his cronies with a knowing smile. "Okay. I'll bite. What's got you three so happy all of a sudden?" Suga's smile turns from drunkenly happy to a sly, cat like one with just a few muscle twitches. Akaashi adverts his eyes and drums his fingers on the table innocently. This behavior isn't strange, in all honesty it's not too far off from their normal, shifty personalities. But something in his gut tells him that something is different about these patterns. The laughter, the silence upon questioning. 

Kenma digs through his bag. It's always been cluttered, making things a tad harder to locate right away. Like his friends' behavior, he knew that this clutter wasn't par for the course. "Where is it?"

"Where's what, Kenma?" His cheeks heated involuntarily from frustration. "The note. Where's the note you made me write?" Suga is unable to keep another peal of laughter from spilling past his lips as he motions across the cafeteria. His heart sinks before he even turns his head to see what the platinum haired boy is referring to. Kageyama has the note. His eyes are lit up like Central Park during Christmas and his cheeks hold a faint honey glow. He reaches across the table and slides the note to his redheaded companion who squeals with joy. If he didn't know the truth, this could have been heart warming. Life changing. 

Kenma swivels back to face the Setters, who are now absolutely howling with cruel laughter. "You gave it to him? I can't believe you guys, I said no." 

"Oh chill out, Kozume. It will give him spank bank material for weeks!" Suga cackled. Oikawa, for once, didn't share his friend's laughter. His face contorted to disgust. How gross it must've been to think of a freshie like that, especially one that was head over heels for _your_ man. "Shut up, Koushi."

"Sorry, Tooru." The four of them watched as the normally grumpy teen melted into a puddle of puppy love right before their eyes. None of them could have predicted what happened next. Metal chair legs scraped against linoleum and his shaky knees forced themselves to stand. The other freshman outcasts give hushed praise to their lovestruck comrade as feet that move as if they're shackled with 12 ton weights take him from his table to the jocks stationed in the center of the cafeteria. "Noooo waaay!" Suga gave Akaashi's shoulder an excited shake. They couldn't believe it. Was he really going to-

"Uh...hi Iwa-Iwaizumi. I...." The wing spiker glares up at the tiny teen who fumbles the paper and his words. His mouth opened and closed a few times like a beached fish gasping for water. Words were failing along with his heart. Instead of trying to use his voice he simply extended his arm and offered the note to the intimidating boy. Iwaizumi scanned the paper. It was indeed his handwriting. But he knew this wasn't his note. In fact, he knew exactly where this note had come from. It was impossible to keep from laughing in Kageyama's face. Partly because of the fact that he thought he would ever write him of all people something like this, and partly because Oikawa had thought that this is the kind of sexy notes he would write to someone.

Naturally the raven haired boy only saw it for the first reason. Kageyama wasn't a crier. The one emotion he consistently displayed was a mix between anger and plain old grumpiness. In this moment, as the rest of the volleyball team passed the note from person to person, adding their own laughter to the mix, tears welled in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists and he stormed out of the cafeteria. The honey glow that had decorated his cheeks just moments ago had transformed into a humiliated flush. Oikawa's ugly cackle filled his ears as he passed. This had to be the worst day of his young life.

"You absolute piranha." Oikawa huffed. "You wanted to be a part of the most powerful clique in school. If I wasn't already leading it, I would want the same thing. Besides, you used to have a sense of humor. What happened to that?" 

"Whatever." Kenma turned away from the glowering leader and focused his attention on anything else. He once again found himself staring at the bed headed stranger. "Hey Ken, come help me in the bathroom." Suga's dainty fingers poked into his cheeks and drew him back to reality. Oikawa mimed sticking his own finger down his throat and gagged. "Grow up, Koushi. Bulimia is so two thousand late." He pouts at the group with this pathetically innocent puppy dog look on his face.  "Fine. Let's go have another look at today's lunch. Plus it will give you time to fix your hair, Keiji." Akaashi ran a finger through his hair. He didn't know there was anything wrong with it.  

Kenma can barely hear Akaashi and Oikawa gossip idly over the sounds of Suga emptying the contents of his stomach into the porcelain throne. Kenma waited until he had finished before flushing away the regurgitated tots and beef patty. "What did he have for dessert? Pie or ice cream?" Keiji calls from outside the stall. "Don't listen to them, Suga." Kenma pat his acquaintance on the head gently like a doting mother. "Y'know, maybe you should see a doctor. They can help you with this kind of thing now."

"Maybe I should. Or maybe you could just write a prescription?" He knew he wasn't going to. 

The quartet returned to their table to gather their things before the bell rang. Once again Kenma's gaze was drawn to the mysterious no-name kid across the room. This time, he was looking back. "God Ken. Drool much? You haven't stopped eying the new kid since you got here." Keiji rests an arm on his shoulder. "His name is Kuroo Testuro. He's in my World History class."

"Give me the clipboard." The Setters watched with anticipation. Kenma strutted across the room with a confidence he had never expressed before and approached Kuroo. "Hi. I'm doing something we like to call a lunch time poll." The boy's lazy smile stretches even wider. "Greetings and salutations. You a Setter?"

"No. Well...I mean yes. I used to be one for volleyball. So I'm a setter with a lowercase S. Does that make sense?" He shrugs. "Anyways, this might seem like a stupid question-"

"There are no stupid questions." Kenma rolled his eyes. He doubted he would feel the same after hearing this. "You inherit 5 million dollars. The same day you get it, aliens land on Earth and say they're gonna blow it up in three days. What do you do?" A pregnant pause fills the space between them. "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard." Kuroo patted the table in front of him, indicating to sit. His offer was accepted. "So what I think I would do is get a bottle of Captain, a volleyball and a net, and I would go to the beach. Spend my last few days on Earth doing the things I love." Kenma scrawls that down.

"Who would you take with you? You can't play volleyball alone."

"I don't think I've decided that part yet. Probably someone special." The two exchange smiles. A firm hand plants itself on Kenma's shoulder and pulls him out of his haze of admiration. It's Oikawa. "Come on. We're gonna cut gym and hang in the quad instead." The brunette shot Kuroo a filthy look and started to haul away his compatriot. "I'll see you later, Kuro."

"Definitely."

"Who does that Bo Diddley guy think he is?" Bokuto is glowering at the new kid from his table. He was the ace. The star of the team. He could get anyone he wanted whenever he wanted it. There was no reason for Kenma's affection towards the new kid to light a jealous fire in his gut. "Let's teach him a lesson 'bout how things work around here."

"Shit, Kou. We're seniors. Too old for that. Plus you know how Akaashi feels about fighting." Bokuto turned to smile at the angelic looking boy who was currently resting against a support beam watching Tooru retrieve Kenma. "Doesn't mean we can't scare him a little." He pushed himself to his feet and the two filled in the space that Kenma had previously occupied. Kuroo barely acknowledged the burly men that currently loomed over him. Iwaizumi leaned in and jammed his finger into the uneaten meal in front of him. His eyebrows raise. "Guess not." Bokuto sneers at the lack luster reaction. "What did your boyfriend say when you told him you had to move away?" 

"Coming from you two that hardly sounds like an insult." 

"What did you say dickweed?!" Kuroo was surprisingly cool and collected as the two larger boys drew closer, menacingly. "Maybe you two couldn't hear me through those copious amounts of muscle. I'll repeat myself." 

Bokuto was close enough to kiss the ring that adorned his middle finger as his fist flew into his face. 

* * *

The sounds of leather hitting soft hands and softer grass fills the Kozume's backyard. "They won't expel him, you know. Maybe just suspension." Akaashi quipped.

"His stupid ring cut Iwa-chan's lip wide open! He could have seriously fucked up our star players!" Oikawa called back. He jumped into the air and slammed the ball down onto the other side of the net, narrowly missing Suga's legs with the spike. "Point, Team Warm Colors!" Kenma reached over and flipped the card on one of those cheap score keepers he was absolutely convinced one of the Setters had just straight up stolen from the gym when Coach Ukai wasn't looking. "Honestly, it's just some light scarring. If even that. I heard he didn't even need stitches." 

"You seem pretty amused by all of this Kenma. I thought you were done with boys this year. I serve again, Kou, toss me the ball." The four of them prepared themselves for one of Oikawa's show stopping serves. He promised and he delivered, the score rising once again. This time his serve did not barely miss Suga, and the ball grazed his knee as it passed. The hit caused his balance to falter slightly, not enough to knock him off his feet but enough to draw a laugh from Oikawa's throat. "Let's just chill for a while." he suggested "My knee is starting to hurt." 

"Are you excited Kenma?" The blond shot Akaashi a questioning look. He had just returned from inside the house and brought with him four glasses of lemonade. "Your first big party tonight? It's your first shot at being popular outside of high school." 

"And if you blow it, you and Keiji are stuck doing keggers with kids until you graduate!" Oikawa countered Suga's sudden outburst with a small nudge (kick) under the table. The four idly gossip, mostly just pointless stuff like Nishinoya's new haircut or rehashing the lunchroom incident with Kageyama. "He looked like he wanted those aliens you were asking about to land on top of him! It was hilarious!"

"Maybe if he's lucky they would take pity on him and abduct him." 

"Uh, no. If anyone here deserves to leave this planet, it's me. I have been an advocate for alien rights on this trash world since I was a kid!" It was easy to let himself just fade into the background of their conversations, especially when they took a strange turn like this one had. His fingers twitch with a longing to press keys and buttons and listen to the satisfying sound of victory beeping out of his handheld consoles tiny speakers. Oikawa would never let him while they were conversing. Something about being in the moment and participating. He was never all that good at it. Lithe fingers drummed against the patio table as he sunk further into his own mind. Static filled his ears and the edges of his vision slowly faded to black.

"-onight. Right Kenma?" Suga gavehim a  jostle and the static fades back into reality. "I....what?" The Setters laugh at his absentmindedness . It's been a few weeks since that's happened.  "You are such a pillow case sometimes. He was asking about what or who we were planning on doing at the party tonight. I know my answer. What about you?"

He picks at the table and hunches his shoulders. "I'm not really planning on doing anything tonight. Especially not  _anyone._  I just thought I'd...." he trails and shrugs. Honestly he hadn't had a plan for the party. The only parties he had ever been to involved Hinata and a the newest Nintendo multiplayer. Something told him that this would not be like those parties. "We'll try and get him set up with something. I'm sure it'll be very-"

"Akaashi, your mother is here." Mrs. Kozume poked her head out of the back door and cut off all conversation. "Thank you. Come on if you want a ride." Akaashi stands and gathers his things, Oikawa following his lead. "I'll pick you up for the party in a few hours Ken. Be ready to go before I get here." The two filed out of Kenma's backyard with the sound of idle chatter following. Kenma nudged Suga's knee with his own. "You're not going with them?"

"My parents wont' be home until later, so I'll just catch the train back later. Unless you're kicking me out." His last jest is said with just enough edge that he almost thinks the white haired boy is serious before realizing the teasing nature. "I could help you get ready for the party if you want. Tooru always said you can't do hair for shit." He nodded and the other boy scooped up his belongings and let himself into the house without another word. Kenma would never understand how he could seem angelic yet be the devil's pet on the side. Kenma made a move to follow the two faced fiend.

"Hey there, stranger." The sudden voice caused his often fidgetty hands to spasm and jump, dropping the volleyball onto the paved patio. The voice had originated from over the fence in the yard of the house next door. The house had sat vacant for several months. Until now, it seemed. "Kuroo? Kuroo Tetsuro?" Telltale bedhead poked over the white picket followed by that signature lazy grin. "Howdy neighbor." 

"You live here now?" He tilted his head towards the house. "Gee. I sure hope so. Otherwise some poor family is going to have one awkward homecoming." The two share a small laugh. The blond pushed himself up to his tiptoes and leaned against the fence. "Are you okay? From earlier today?" The lazy smirk morphed into a tight line and his eyes rolled. "Yeah. When you move around as much as I do, you learn that assholes are the same in every school. Eventually you lean to swing first as ask forgiveness later."

"That doesn't sound like any way to live." Kuroo reaches over the fence with his lanky arms and places his long bony fingers on Kenma's hand. "Everybody's got static. Is your life perfect?" 

"Not in the slightest." 

"KENMA GET UP HERE!" Suga has taken the liberty of flinging open Kenma's bedroom window and has partially flung himself from said window, body dangling precariously from the second story. "I have to go or he will finish what he's started up there." He reluctantly pulled his hand away. "Welcome to the neighborhood. I'll see you at school." 

Suga is in the process of clearing dust from Kenma's boudoir. The surface is littered with makeup and skin care products that Oikawa has let him borrow. They originally belong to his older sister, but she's off raising a son somewhere and doesn't need all of the old cosmetics she had left in their bathroom cabinet when she left his drab town in her review mirror. Looking at the clutter of hardly touched makeup made him want to achieve the same goal someday. "Finally. You're so slow sometimes, you know. I don't know how Tooru even puts up with that." Surprisingly strong hands force him to sit and began picking, plucking, tweaking, and smearing various creams and moisturizers into his skin and hair. "Why oo ou le im tree ou lik tha?"

"I can't understand you when your mouth is full, sweetie." Suga says with his fingers nearly inside of Kenma's mouth while trying to apply lip gloss. "Why do you let him treat you like that? Like you're less than him?" The question hangs in the air awkwardly. They both know who he's talking about and can list examples of what he means off the top of their heads. "We're friends. A good friend would do anything for each other. Like how Keiji lets you borrow his phone to play games when Tooru takes yours, or giving you a nice makeover right before the biggest college party you've ever been to." He accentuates his point with a flick of his wrist, creating a crisp wing of sparkly eyeliner. "Okay. Name one nice thing Oikawa did for you this year." 

His mouth opens and closes uselessly. His hands remain busy with twisting bleached blond hair into a stylishly messy bun. "Sometimes friends aren't always nice, okay? I mean, who cares? Friendships aren't perfect. So what if he's not always the nicest to us, at least we aren't being tormented on the daily like Bakageyama and the rest of the geek squad. Isn't that really the nicest thing he could do for any of us?"

Kenma doesn't know how to respond. He doesn't have to. The point that has been made is riddled with undeniable truth. "Here. I'll pick out your outfit and you can tell me what you think. How about that cute pair of overalls Keiji just got you?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Suga."

"Don't mention it."  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i cranked out this entire chapter in less than a day because it's heathers day. Fuck me.

Oikawa's beat up Volkswagen Jetta pulled into the convenience store parking lot with the stereo blasting out whatever hot new song had graced the radio this week. Oikawa slid a $20 out of his wallet. "Okay, go grab me some Corn nuts and get yourself something to." He turned to hand over the money only to see Kenma buried deep in his PSP. Did he have that when he got in the car? How did he slip that past him? He plucked the game from his hands and replaced it with the cash. "Corn Nuts. Now." The bleach blond sighed. He hoped that the older boy would at least save his game before turning off and storing his device unlike the last time he had confiscated it. "Plain or BBQ?"

"Ranch. Duh. Now go, we're gonna be late." He exited the car dripping with apathy. He hated going into stores alone, but he knew there was no chance of getting Oikawa out of the car. He would spend the next 5 to 10 minutes on his own phone sending cutesy texts to Iwaizumi reassuring him that the party would be "uber fun" and that nothing shady would happen within 20 feet of him or his perfect hair. Or sending anonymous, thinly veiled threats on the school's unofficial anonymous confessions page on Twitter. Or alternating between the two. Maybe even snapping a selfie. All in all there was no point in trying to convince him to come along with him. He would just have to grin and bear it.

7-11 has a weirdly calming aspect to it. No matter where you're from, there is always the soft fluorescent lighting shining off of seemingly spotless linoleum tiles, music softly wafting through the air from the overhead speakers. The newer ones were often even sleeker looking with new fangled lighting and coolers for drinks. Their town was fairly behind on updating their local convenience stores. Kenma was pretty sure that this was still the original store model from the 80s and no one had ever bothered to remodel. The only new machine was the slushie machine, which had died a few years prior and the lack of the infamous frozen drink had led to the near closure of the store. 

Corn nuts were easy to obtain. They kept them at the front near the door with other quick snacks like jerky and chips. "You gonna grab a slushie with that?" For the second time that night a familiar voice just out of his line of vision startled him. He turned and lo and behold, bedhead and a lazy grin met his gaze. "You're not stalking me, are you?" It's only half a joke. Kuroo laughs heartily. "If only. Nah, Dad sent me down to pick up something for dinner. Probably gonna pick up a turbo dog and hit the fro-yo they got in the back there. You?"

"Oikawa sent me in to pick up some pre-party snacks. You seem pretty well versed in convenience store speak." 

"Been popping in and out of them all my life. Just like math, every mini mart, bodega, and corner store is identical from state to state. Now what kind of slushie did you say you wanted?" It was a bit presumptuous of him, but he moved for the machine regardless. "I didn't. But I'll take a cherry." Kuroo smirked. "That's my favorite. We got a lot in common, you and I." 

The experience was much more bearable with the lanky boy by his side. One might even say it was pleasant. The two of them joked and talked all the way up to the counter and out the door where Kuroo strutted over to a vintage styled motor bike detailed with red and black. "Whoa. This yours?' 

"You know it. Dad got it from a scrap yard back in Tenn. while he was looking for parts to demonstrate his demolition plans on. " Kenma smiled. "I thought I recognized the name. Kuroo Destructions. 'Bringing every state to a higher state.' So your Dad is pretty busy all the time? 

"Yeah. He's what I got. Not like I'm gonna talk with my mom .""

Why not?"

"Hard to talk to much when you've been dead for 7 years." Kenma's eyes went wide. God he felt so stupid. There was no way he could have known about his mother, but it still felt so insensitive to bring her up after she had died. "I'm so sorry."

"No big deal. It happens, you know?" He throws one leg over the seat and straddles the bike, plastic bag of goodies dangling from the handles. "So..." Kenma awkwardly rubbed his arm. "So.." he repeated.

"You know, I was just going to head home. But if you wanna take the bike for a spin we could maybe just drive around and..." His offer was cut off by a piercing honk. Kenma knew that horn anywhere. Oikawa threw open the driver's side door and screeched "Let's GO!!!" accentuating his point with a few more short beeps of the horn. "I...I would really love to. But I have to go before Oikawa blows a blood vessel." 

"I don't really like your friends. From what I've seen they're not all that nice." 

"I don't like my friends either. It's more like they're people I work with and our job is being popular and shit." The horn sounds again. "Maybe it's time for you to take a vacation."

* * *

When they pull up the party is already in full swing. "Alright. Your first big party. Are you excited?" Once again when Oikawa turned to face his friend he was one his phone. Dammit, he thought he had taken that away when he had picked him up. He snatched it from his hands and slid it into his pocket. "Focus on this, Kenma. iwa-chan said that there's a guy here who really really wants to meet you and you need to be attentive. Not like usual. Get it together."

"Okay, okay. Let's just get this over with." Music blasts through a shitty sound system that is nearly drowned out by thousands of conversations merging with each other. A few college kids are already stone cold wasted and grinding on each other on whatever surface is available. it's mildly disgusting.

Two men approached them with smiles spread over hazy red cheeks. They've also had a few at this point. "Hello, gentlemen. I'll take your coats." He clumsily snatches their coats away and tosses them through an open door onto a bed overflowing with coats. The taller of the two men is eyeing Kenma in an almost creepy manor. His smile is the dopiest of the two. "Looks like someone likes you." Oikawa whispers. "Kenma, this is Lev Haiba. His family is from Russia. You two should go get something to drink in the kitchen. We'll catch up later, m'kay?" The stylish brunette gives him a shove towards Lev and moved closer to his own date. 

Lev planted a strong hand on his shoulder. "Nice to meetcha, Kenma. C'mon, I'll make you my specialty."

_Dear Diary_

_I want to kill and you have to believe it's for more than just selfish reasons._

The two of them end up in a secluded rec room on a couch, Lev's long arm slung across his shoulders. He had snatched the silver haired man's phone and played the basic games that he had downloaded, sipping at the third round of the incredibly potent drink he had fixed for him during loading screens. "Y'know its so great being able to talk to someone and not having to ask about your major." Little beeps filled the space between words. "....What do you think you'll major in when you graduate?" Kenma sighed and set down the phone.

"C'mon let's get back to the party, Ushiwaka." Oikawa pushed on his strong chest. Dark olive eyes cloud with lust. "We will. You're just so...attractive tonight." He leans forward and presses a kiss to Oikawa's lips. He returns the kiss.

_I must stop Oikawa Tooru. For the good of the rest of the world, he must DIE._

Kenma chokes down the rest of the drink and it burns the whole way down. He feels dizzy. Absolutely sick to his stomach. Lev leans in even closer so his lips nearly touch his ears when he speaks. "I'm surprised you aren't on your school's cheer squad. You're pretty enough for it." Kenma made a noncommittal noise in response. "Why don't you come back to my place and we can have a real party?" His head is swimming. There had to be something other than just vodka in that drink.

" 'M not feeling well..."

"We can do it here, then. Right here on the coats." There are lips on his neck and his stomach is churning. Why the hell is he so eager? The room is swaying. It takes more power than it should to push himself to his feet. "You know I have a little speech prepared for when the guy I'm with wants more than I'm willing to offer. Gee Blank, I'm having a really nice time. But-"

"Kozume. Oikawa is looking for you." Ushijima pushed his way into the conversation and grabbed Kenma's arm. Lev looked on forlornly as his potential lay was yanked away from him.

_Hinata and Kageyama were real friends and I sold them out for a bunch of diet coke heads. Killing Oikawa would be like landing a house on the Wicked Witch of the ~~~~~~West~~_

~~_East_ ~~

_No, WEST!!!! GOD I must sound like I'm crazy._

He must look pretty fucked. People are stopping their conversations to stare at him as the much larger boy dragged him along behind him. "Kenma, there you are! I was just telling Dai-chan all about your awesome video gaming skills!" Oikawa grabbed him away, jostling him more roughly than he should. The room seems to sway back and forth like a rocking boat. "I'm not feelin' well..." His complaint gets ignored. Instead he pulled out one of the confiscated devices from one of the deep pockets in his stylish teal bomber jacket and placed it in his hands. "Go on, show him what you can do." He gives the blond a little shove. His stomach screams with protest. "Oikawa-"

"Stop being such a little bitch and play nice." He can barely hear the threat over the bumping music that shakes his dazed brain like an earthquake. Snake like eyes bear down on him as he shakily turns on the game. He is unable to focus with everything happening around him. "Oikawa I'm gonna throw up." 

"What?" Kenma spins around. It's too much. He's unable to stop himself from hunching over and spilling his guts over the carpet. And Oikawa's brand new patent leather saddle shoes. The snake eyed man laughs suddenly at the sight and he's pretty sure he hears Oikawa himself let out a horrible screech. When he comes back up to face him he's not even able to apologize. He feels better, but only slightly. He can only watch as Oikawa takes a long sip from his own cup, holds it in his mouth, and spits the mix of whiskey and spittle into his face. Now more people were stopping and laughing. "Now we're both laughing stocks." Kenma doesn't know what to say. He stormed out.

_Tomorrow I'll be on my knees kissing his toned ass but tonight let me dream of a world without Oikawa. Let me pretend I am free from all of the Setters._

"Kozume Kenma! You stupid asshole!" Kenma pivots on one toe. "You goddamned BITCH! I told you I wasn't feeling well!" The light from the party dances across their faces, casting them both with demonic shadows. Oikawa looks like Satan himself. "You were nothing before I saved you. You were a girl scout cookie, a baby bird. I taught you how to fly above all of that and THIS is how you pay me? In puke! My payment is on the hallway carpet!" 

A sudden surge of drunken courage fills his veins. "Lick it up, baby. LICK! IT! UP!" Oikawa has never been talked to like this before in his life. No one has ever been brave enough to stand up to him. If he wasn't so pissed, he might have been impressed. "Monday morning, I'm destroying you. Transfer to Karasuno, or even Nekoma. No one here will ever let you run with them again. Now get out of my face." Oikawa tapped some of the vomit off his shoes before deciding it wasn't worth it and discared them in a nearby bin. "How am I supposed to get home?"

"Walk, bitch!" 

The walk home is treacherous. There's hardly any traffic, but it's dark and he's wasted. Plus there's a slight sting in his eyes from the alcohol. His feet try and stop him from progress with constant stumbling and awkward leaning. But he manages to make it home in relatively one piece. Once home, he remembers that Oikawa still has his wallet AND his phone. And his keys. There is no way to get in the house and he can't let his parents see him drunk. They would kill him. If they didn't he would die from embarrassment. Backyard it is. 

He stumbled into the backyard where the net was set up. Perfect. He tore it down and wrapped it around himself as a makeshift blanket and curled up on the patio. He was so tired. Of parties, of the Setters, of everything. He wanted to fade away forever, and at this point he was well on the way to doing just that. "Funny meeting you here, stranger." Great, now he's hallucinating. He hears the sound of wood creaking fills his ears, followed by footsteps across wet grass. "Kenma. Kitten, what are you doing?" His eyes crack open and he gazes up at a face he's not really surprised to see anymore. "Kuroo." 

The tall boy stooped down and ran his fingers over his face gently. "You're all wet. What the hell happened at that party?" Kenma doesn't want to think about that right now. He doesn't want to think about anything except for the strangely strong attraction that has been budding in his heart for the boy in front of him since this afternoon in the cafeteria. How much stronger it had grown at 7-11. "K-Kiss me." The demand is barely above a whisper. "What?"

_Dear Diary,_

_I think I'm in love._

"Kiss me. Right now." He buries his hands in his nightshirt and tugs him closer. They're nose to nose, nearly chest to chest. The silver buttons from Kenma's overalls dig into his skin slightly as they press even closer. Lips meet and before they know it everything is getting out of hand. His parents would definitely get a noise complaint in the morning and that would be one hell of an awkward moment to explain why Mrs. Daniels heard such loud moaning from their yard but goddammit if it wasn't worth it. This is what being 17 meant. This is the life he should be living. He supposed he would have to thank Oikawa for dragging him to that stupid party and making a fool out of him. If he hadn't, he would have never had this moment with Kuroo Tetsuro, the mysterious next door bad boy.

 _But maybe that's just the orgasm talking._  

Of course, all those thanks would have to wait. He still had to repair his reputation. Because none of this fantastic night would matter if he was dead come Monday. If Oikawa would even let him survive the weekend. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whips* I don't write romance but yknow i guess


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can go wrong in seconds flat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting to the meaty plot filled parts and im gonna scream. I'm really trying to take this slow but like.....yknow the plot is already laid down so yep
> 
> Also a local theatre put on Heathers and i went to see it the other night. So im like hella inspired

"Truth or dare?"

"Hm. Truth?"

"Okay. Who...who was your first kiss?" Kuroo tapped his chin in thought. Although it was all for show. Kemna gave him a light, playful shove. "Seriously?"

"You, duh." He stuck his tongue out at him. "You were...you know. The first everything." Crickets fill the silent night air with a tiny symphony, background music to a budding romance. "That's not weird to say, right? Like usually you don't tell someone you were their first, right?" Kenma laid his head on his chest and hummed. "I think it's perfectly normal. But then again, you were my first too." The pair are partially wrapped in a blanket Kuroo had snagged from his bedroom, the volleyball net hopelessly tangled at their feet. Kenma's drunken state has finally shaved down to a light buzz that he will definitely regret in the morning. But now it makes his head swim and his heart beat in a way that could only be described as pleasant. He loves being here, wrapped in a shabby throw blanket and Kuroo's arms on the lawn. He almost doesn't want it to end.

"Okay, your turn. Truth or dare."

"Truth. Who knows what kinds of dares you would come up with." Kuroo chuckled. "What the hell happened at the party? You looked so...sad. And not just because you tried to charm the lock into opening for you." Kenma had a vague memory of something like that possibly occurring in the recent past. "It's kind of a long story. I can give you the synopsis, though." Kuroo nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Oikawa pushed me off on some freshman from the university. Something-what's-his-name from Russia. He kept making me these really strong drinks and I kept drinking them. Then when he finally needed me he had his....." Kenma waved his hands vaguely to indicate his lack of information on the relation to Oikawa that the large man who had escorted him to his doom had with each other. "He just wanted me to show a guy how to play a game. But he kept tugging me around and jostling me. I wasn't feeling good and I....." His hands moved in an outward motion. "All over his shoes. And the carpet. And he spit in my face so we would both be embarrassed. But I'm pretty sure I was just embarrassed twice." 

Kuroo's lips tightened into a tight line. "No wonder you looked so shitty. No offense."

"None taken. I felt shitty." He leaned his head into Kuroo's chest and nearly immediately a hand was tangling itself in this hair. "I never really thought much of the power plays he made against other kids, but now I'm actually kind of scared. I mean, what will I do now? I can't... I don't think I can take being bullied like that. Like..." Like the way he had treated Kageyama. "Oikawa Tooru is one bitch that deserves what karma gives to him." Kuroo's grip on him tightens. "You know just one well placed lightning bolt through his bedroom window and we're all free."

Kenma snorted. "We can always pray for rain. But I doubt killing him would solve anything." He sighed heavily through his nose. "You don't have to be scared now. I'm here." Kuroo pressed a few kissed to his scalp. "I say we just stay here. And grow up. And die."

"Good plan." His eyes slowly slid shut and he took in a deep breath. After all that alcohol and the....other strenuous activity he was absolutely exhausted. Kuroo pushed himself into a sitting position and brushed some dirt and loose grass from his shirtless form. "You're falling asleep. Come on, let's go to my room." Kenma allowed him to scoop him into his arms, only slightly alarmed by how effortlessly he seemed to pull it off. He heard himself murmuring something that sounds like "okay" but he's tired to the point that he thinks he might have just thought it to himself before letting his eyes slide shut. He barely registers the trip through both yards and into the house, only jolting back to consciousness when Kuroo lets him fall onto the bed with a slight bounce. The mattress dips as he slipped under the covers beside him. "Sleep tight, Ken."

* * *

"You little slut." Kenma rocketed upright. Oikawa was still in the baggy teal bomber jacket and tight skinny jeans he was wearing at the party, sitting like a poised member of the royal court at the foot of the bed. He's barefoot, new vomit covered shoes abandoned in the bin outside of the fraternity. "How did you get in here?"

Oikawa cackles and Kenma is amazed that Kuroo doesn't stir beside him. "I'm like oxygen. I'm everywhere." The springs creak and moan as Oikawa crawls closer with a sinister grin spreading across his lips. "I thought I had enough dirt on you with the pukefest and the whole spitting in your face. But sleeping with the psycho new kid mere _hours_ after making his acquaintance? I will _crucify_ you with this." They are nose to nose now. Kenma knows he shaking like a leaf, he just hopes Oikawa doesn't.

"I take back what I said. Not even transferring will save your ass now." He poked the tip of this tongue out and smirked. Like a cat who was very satisfied with his latest kill. He lifted a single manicured finger and lightly booped the end of Kenma's nose. "Sleep tight, slut." 

Kenma hears screaming before it registers that the noise is coming from him. Kuroo shot up and wrapped him in a tight hug. He didn't even know what was wrong before rushing to his side to sooth him. "Hey hey hey. It's okay, Ken. Stop screaming, you're gonna wake up my Dad." Little kisses were pressed into his cheeks and temples and his breathing slowly began to even out. Oikawa was not at the end of the bed. He was no where to be seen.

Light was beginning to stream in through the window, showing the signs of early morning. How long had he been sleeping? He reached for his phone, only to remember that it was still in the demon clutches of Oikawa Tooru. He groaned and let himself fall back into the pillows. "Are you alright? Sounds like you were having one hell of a nightmare." Kuroo leans down as well, a large hand positioning itself soothingly on his shoulder. Kenma arched into the light touch. He was starting to feel loads better already.

But it couldn't last. "I have to go."

"What? Why so soon?" Kenma placed his hand on top of Kuroo's. "I have to apologize to Oikawa."

"Last night you said you were done with him." Kenma lets himself fall into a small state of bliss before slowly removing the comforting hand and crawling out of bed. Kuroo had placed him on the side of the bed that was positioned against the wall so he had to quite literally crawl over the taller boy to reach the floor. He remained in the state of partial undress he was in from the night before. Kuroo had been a gentleman and brought in his grass stained overalls and scuffed Converse and left them neatly on a dresser by the door. "I was until I remembered all of the stuff he confiscated from me that I would really like back. And I'm not gonna get them back unless I suck up to him." Kuroo also rolled out of bed and began dressing. 

"Well then I'm coming with you." Kenma shot him a quizzical look. "For emotional support. Or physical. Just in case things get fighty." The blond rolled his eyes but he didn't argue. Honestly he was glad that his newest lover (or was it boyfriend? or maybe just friends who did the dirty in his backyard one time??) was accompanying him to the dragon's lair. Even if nothing could save him from the potential hellfire that was a hungover, angry Oikawa Tooru being begged for forgiveness so early on a Saturday. Well, it was probably only around 8:30 or 9. But that was still weekend early.

The pair managed to exit the house without rousing Kuroo's father, which would be the most miraculous event of the morning. Apparently years of explosions hadn't completely destroyed his hearing and he was almost always keenly aware of when Kuroo entered and exited the house. But not this morning. They two slipped onto Kuroo's sleek motorbike and rode off to the other side of town. 

The houses get progressively nicer the further from their neighborhood you got. Not that their own houses were bad looking, they just weren't elaborate multistories with large bay windows and a balcony hanging from the second floor over the covered entryway which was adorned with a seasonal wreath like these were. Most of the people who lived here were business owners and their families or older rich couples who never had kids. Kenma quickly pointed out the Akaashi home as they zipped past. No doubt the handsome boy was fast asleep in his lavish bedroom, waiting to awake to the probably thousands of messages Oikawa had spammed their group chat with the night before. He could only hope none of them were too irreversibly damning for his reputation. 

They screeched to a stop outside of Oikawa's house. It was like Akaashi's, but better. Much like most of the possessions the brunette often bragged about. His father's fancy sports car was absent from the driveway. "Perfect. He's home."

"Are you sure? It doesn't look like  _anyone_ is here."

"Oh I know. He tends to skip the family trip to IHop with Grandma, even when he's not hungover. Come on, I want my PSP back." The key is under the dying doorside plant that his mother has been extensively caring for for nearly a year now. The sound of the door creaking open filled the house, decorated in cheesy fall themed knick knacks and expensive furniture. He had once heard Oikawa compare his mother's attention to interior design to those weird airtight bag infomercials they made a few years back: too much stuff, not enough space. Figurines and doilies and decorative leaves for some reason littered most flat surfaces and led into the kitchen, which was styled to resemble a 1950s-esque soda counter complete with uncomfortable plastic covered stools that squeaked far too loudly for enjoyability when you sat in them. 

"Oikawa, it's Kenma!" he called up the stairs. "I'm here to apologize for last night!" He was met with silence, then the groan of bedsprings supporting a sudden shift in weight. "HOPE YOU BROUGHT KNEE PADS, BITCH!" Kuroo poorly contained a snort with his hand. "MAKE ME A PRAIRIE OYSTER AND WE CAN TALK!" 

"You heard the man. Prairie oyster, pronto." With a grand sweeping motion of Kuroo's arm the two entered the kitchen and set to work obtaining the ingredients. "What's even in one of those anyways?" Kuroo's voice was muffled by the fact that he had his head buried in the cabinet underneath the sink, most likely not looking for prairie oyster ingredients. "Raw egg, hot sauce, salt, pepper, et cetera. It's really gross."

"Know your way around hangover cures?"

"My friends make heavy drinking a weekend habit. You've never made one of these before?" Kenma had assembled half of the cure when suddenly Kuroo's bedhead emerged from beneath the counter. That trademark smile is on his face once more. In his hands he clasps a a bottle filled half way with a sickly blue liquid. "I'm more of a no rust build-up man, myself!" He mimed chugging down the contents of bottle and clutched his throat, tongue sticking out comically. He's laughing. "Don't be a jerk. That stuff could kill him." Kenma is not laughing. The laughter dies in Kuroo's throat and he plopped the bottle onto the counter unceremoniously. "Thus hanging his hangover!"

"No. Besides, he's not an idiot. He's actually really smart. And he wouldn't drink something like that." A light sparked in Kuroo's eyes and he pulled another mug out of the cupboard. He unscrewed the cap and poured a generous amount of drain cleaner into it. "There. He'd never even see what he's drinking." 

"I think I'm going to spit in this." Kenma is ignoring his solution. He tries and fails for a few seconds to hock up enough snot and phlegm to spit into the already disgusting combo resting in the mug. "I didn't take you, Kozume Kenma, for a chicken." Lithe fingers dug into Kenma's ribs and he clenched his lips together to keep a laugh from slipping out.

"You're not funny." Kuroo set his mug down on the counter. Kenma did the same and the two drew closer to one another. Their noses touched and Kuroo stuck out his tongue playfully. Their lips press together and for a moment Kenma forgets why they're here until a shrill version of his name is screeched down the stairs at him once more. "I don't know how he can yell so loudly yet be so hungover." He wormed away from his lover and snatched up the mug from the counter. Kuroo momentarily leaned against the counter. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted sickly yellowish orange coating the bottom of the remaining mug. 

"Kenma, wait!"

"What?" He was oblivious. It was kind of adorable. "Nothing. Just wanted to let you know how cute your butt looks from here." 

"Disgusting. Let's go deliver this to the Demon King." 

Oikawa's room is just as lavish as the rest of the house, but more simplistic in decor. And much messier. Clothing and shoes strewn across the floor, discarded wrappers from convenience store snacks mixed in. A few alien themed posters littered the walls, adding a strange dark side to the most popular boy in school. Speak of the devil. Oikawa was sitting up in bed with his glasses positioned precariously on the tip of his nose. When the pair entered his room he discarded his cellphone in the ocean of soft teal comforter he was currently buried in. "Kenma. And I see you've brought a young Jesse James."

Kenma extended the peace offering. "Oikawa, I'm really really sorry about last night-"

"I would prefer it if you did this on your knees." Kenma's lips tugged into another tight smile. "Anyways. I'm sure we both said things we didn't really mean and I-"

"I'm not kidding." With a sigh of resignation he dropped down to his knees very skillfully keeping the cup balanced. "Aw. You must be so proud." Oikawa shot the final quip at Kuroo, whose cheeks were painted a light red from the combination of the cruel comment and admittedly the sight of Kenma on his knees. What? He was a teenaged boy after all. 

Oikawa daintily slid out of bed and stalked over to Kenma. The lengthy sleeves of his flowing nighttime kimono which he's half sure was originally his sister's brush over Kenma's face as Oikawa reached out to ruffle his hair. "We'll see how you did with this and then we can talk forgiveness. If it's really good you can even replace Suga as the dumb one." the mug exchanges hands and Kenma can only hang his head while Oikawa sucks it down. 

He sputtered. And it wasn't one of the usual 'just drank a raw egg with like 8 gross ingredients in it' kind of sputter. "W-what the hell did-" he coughed violently "-did you put in here?!" Kenma is on his feet in an instant. Kuroo leaned against the doorframe with that same smug smirk on his face. "Big boy can't even handle a simple hangover cure?" A horrible choking noise crawled its way our of Oikawa's throat. The smile melted off of Kuroo's face. Both hands wrap around his throat and the mug and the remainder of its contents crash to the ground and shatter. Now everyone can see that instead of the brownish yellowish mix that it should have been, an unnatural blue is staining the carpet. And Oikawa's lips. 

The brunette swiveled to face the blond boy. "What did you do to me?" His voice is hoarse. When he speaks a fresh spout of red pours from his mouth and onto his skin. His skin has gone ashy and his knees are shaking like a leaf. A final, pitiful "Help me" leaves his lips before he finally collapses. 

When he was redecorating the house he had begged his parents to let him take the glass coffee table they had previously kept in the living room and move it into his room. He had adored the retro style and the aesthetic it added to his usually trashed but still pretty groovy room. When he had begged, he never imagined himself plummeting face first into it while his friend and his new squeeze watched. He didn't imagine Kenma physically flinching at the sound of glass shattering upon impact. He would have never even dreamt of all the pain.

"Oh my God!" He dropped to the floor, wary of the bits of glass and old magazines spread out around Oikawa and what was left of the table. This couldn't be happening. There was no way. This wasn't possible. "We have to call the paramedics! Or-or the police!" Anxious hands wormed through his hair, the light tugging on his scalp rooting him in the horrible reality. Kuroo joined him, studying the boy from above. He shook his head. 

"No. It's a little too late for that." He crouched and pointed to Oikawa's neck. His entire body was riddled with bits of glass, but one of the biggest chunks were embedded in his face. In his  _neck_. Oh dear Lord, right through the- "He's gone." 

It's hard for Kenma not to burst into tears right now. Or puke. Isn't it funny how this all started because of a little puke? "I can't belIeve I just  _killed_ my best friend."

"Your worst enemy."

"Same thing." He reaches out and he helped him to his feet. Now he's the one shaking like a leaf. "What do we tell the cops? His parents? Fuck it if he can't take a joke?" Oikawa's dresser is the only thing keeping him upright right now. "They'll have to send my ACT scores to San Quentin...." 

Kuroo paced the room like a caged animal. He's thinking. Plotting. Baking up a plan to get them out of this absolutely shitty situation. He kicked the rubble around an unearths something that sets off sparks in his mind. It's perfect. "Look at this." He almost has to force himself to look over at the crime scene. Kuroo triumphantly holds up an old book, probably stolen from the school library. There's a ragged bookmark poking out from the top. In the other hand is a fairly new issue of some hot teen magazine. The cover story is about teenage suicide.

"We technically committed murder. That's a crime. But if we just so happened to walk in on a friend in need moments too late...." 

"No."

"You were coming here to pick up the stuff he took anyways-"

"No no no."

"-and you can do his handwriting just as good as your own!" Kenma's hands flew to his ears and his eye squeezed shut. "I can't believe you're asking me to write my best friend's suicide note!"

"Oikawa Tooru was  ** _not_** your best friend and you know it. Now do you want to go to jail or do you want to keep living your life a free man?!" It takes more thought than it should. Finally he threw open a desk drawer and pulled out a pen and paper. "Glad to see you're on board. Okay, conjour him up. Who was Oikawa Tooru?"

"You may think that what I've done is shocking....

**_But to me, suicide is the logical answer to the many problems that life has given me. Everyone thinks that because I'm popular and pretty, that my life is perfect and fun but no one understands that I had feelings too. Insecurities. I die knowing that nobody truly knew the real me._ **

* * *

"Oikawa Tooru isn't your everyday suicide." The principal adjusts his toupee in a discreet manner. The room is surprisingly warm for September. Then again all of the teachers are crammed around the meeting table passing around the laminated version of the note. "You should cancel classes." Coach Ukai suggests. He's their newest addition to the staff, but one of the most respected. "No way. If I send the kids home before lunch there's no telling what kind of trouble they'll get into. What with the weed and the Tweeter and what not."

"I'm sure the parents would understand. They just lost a classmate." A loud sob from the hallway just outside the heavy door punctuates his point. "Was this the setter who led the cheer squad?"

"No. The senior one with the knee injury."

"I'd be willing to go a half day for the one with the grey hair...."

"No no, he's on yearbook. Not cheer squad."

Takeda slammed his fist onto the solid oak table. "I cannot believe you all! Talking about who would get longer mourning times or which setter does what! Our children are dying and this is how we handle it?!" In his flustered rant his glasses slid down his nose. He hurriedly pushes them back into place as not to retract from his statement. All eyes are on the frazzled English teacher now. "I think we should let them out early. BUT! We get them all into the cafeteria and we talk about this. Work through their grief together."

Silence fell over the room. "Thank you, Ittetsu. Be sure to call us when the shuttle lands." A math teacher quipped. Takeda pouted. He would not be put down like this again. "Have any of you actually read the suicide note?! It's absolutely lovely. The poetic nature, the generosity! Even in his hour of need he was thinking of giving away his mortal possessions!"

**_Box up my clothing for Goodwill. Donate my car to a mother in need. Give them everything I no longer require now that I'm gone. Show the world the me inside of me._ **

* * *

The cafeteria is lined wall to wall in pictures. Polaroids, printed out selfies from his Insta and his Twitter. Tweets that had been pinned are written on slips of paper and pinned to cork boards along with copies of his infamous note. Even after he's dead, Oikawa Tooru was the center of attention. 

"I never knew he was hurting this much." Akaashi lets his fingers brush against a group photo of the four of them just a week prior. "Why do you think he did it? Bottle it all up, I mean?" He leaned his head against Bokuto's shoulder, a moment of weakness in a normally cool and composed facade. 

Across the room Iwaizumi stared into the eyes of the biggest photo of all. A 24 x 24 piece of poster board with his smiling face, a little blep of his tongue sticking out and his fingers up in a piece sign. It's the picture from the night of the party. They've photoshopped out the caption but he can remember it.

_waitin 4 my cn! party wont b fun w/o u!!!_

He pulled a lighter from his letterman jacket and carefully lit the candles that surrounded the board. Coded with the school colors, just how he would have wanted them.

Sugawara isn't in school today and no one really knows why.

Kageyama finds himself staring into the eyes of the boy who bullied him from the moment he hit middle school and he tries and  _tries_ to feel something other than pity. Something other than a slight sense of relief. Even with Hinata standing next to him blubbering his eyes out he just can't do it. He'll pretend he doesn't know why but he definitely does. 

"I heard he sucked down a cup of Draino and crashed through the coffee table." Tanaka whispered to Nishinoya. "It was fucking sick in a bad way."

"' _so sorry 2 hear abt @alien_bae420. #restinpower #flyhigh_ '.... Is that too cliche?"

_wish u were here right now : '( #rip_

_even tho we never talked i know ill miss oikawa #rip #flyhigh #mondaymood_

_t_ ooru _and i used to date and he said i was boring. now i know i wasnt. he was just unhappy with his life and projecting that onto me #rip_

"It's so petty, isn't it?" Kuroo pulled Kenma closer. The two and grabbed chairs and settled in the back of the commotion. "Even when he's six feet under no one can shut up about him. Look at this shit people are posting on Twitter!" Kenma read a few sappy, fake sad tweets and let out a guffaw which he expertly turned into a sob when a few accusing eyes turned his way. "He's not even six feet under yet. I think the funeral is in a few days."

"You going?"

"I have to. I'm his friend, remember?" 

"He really was your soulmate." A new voice cut in causing the duo to jump in their seats. Mr. Takeda placed a sympathetic hand on Kenma's shoulder. "You've been so quiet, more than usual. Care to share?" Crap. He had to think of something. Something fake deep like all the tweets but longer. More personal than just a RIP on a pointless anecdote. 

"Uh...Oikawa was....cool. But he was awful. Or unhappy? I guess he was so overwhelmed by being so....powerful...that he thought the only way to give it up was....you know." Even without the anxiety from the kill fresh in his gut social alarms were constantly blaring in his head. This was not a good situation for him to be in. He had to get out before he said something even stupider. But how? Suddenly a warmth spread over him and he remembered his perfect scapegoat. His new protector.

"Sorry teach, you know how close they were. Ken's mind is still trying to get over the whole thing." He leaned in and lowered his voice so only the three of them could hear. "We were the ones who found him. Went over to see if he was okay." Takeda's hand flew to his mouth. 

"Oh, Kenma, dear. I had no idea. Please, feel free to come and talk whenever you feel like it. I can't even imagine how hard this has all been for you." With that he pushed his way through the crowd and to the front of the cafeteria. It was announced that they would have the rest of the day off and the room cleared faster than you could blink. A few stragglers stayed behind. Akaashi, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, and a few other volleyball players. And of course, Kuroo and Kenma. It was sickening to see all of the grievers clear out at the first sign of freedom.

"Everyone in this town is just like him. Cold, hard, unfeeling plastic." Kenma groaned.

"Yeah, they really are." Kuroo rested his cheek against the top of Kenma's head, who nuzzled up into it. "Turns out you can melt plastic pretty easily, though. Just add Draino."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do kids still use twitter


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Putting the fun back in funerals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> by the way if u check out my blog i have a bunch of art inspired by this au 
> 
> or if u wanna make art for this au u can send it there
> 
> ask-cosplayukraine-please@tumblr.com

"In my heart, Oikawa is still alive." Daichi and Kiyoko are wrapped in each other's arms, the bespectacled girl weeping softly while the taller man leans into the microphone. "It's not going to be the same here without him. It will be....really sad." 

"What are you talking about? He hated you, and you hated him! Next!" Kuroo obliged and flipped to the next news station. Kenma pressed closer, taking in the comforting warmth radiating from his new lover. The two are snuggled on a ragged looking plaid patterned couch that has seen better days, filling their free time with the empty tears of their classmates who are over their mourning and have started running to ever single news network in town. 

"We used to livestream our makeup tutorials together." Suga's tear stained face filled the screen. Kenma has seen this technique before, he had used it to get out of a test a few weeks ago when he was too hungover to see the words on a page. "We would share tips and tricks. And sometimes he even let me use his glitter eyeliner to make my beauty mark pop." Despite the sad demeanor he mimes the 'popping' with his fingers, flinging them outward and wiggling them. 

"Ugh. Next, please." The next channel features a few of the Tweets under the hashtag _#flyhighalienboy_ started by Seijoh's own Iwaizumi Hajime. It's mostly the same shit they had seen in the cafeteria with new names and profile pictures. In his pocket his phone vibrates for the fifth time since they left school.

_**Shoyo:** _

_**heard about oikawa :'( so sorry. hes setting volleyballs in heaven** _

Kenma felt his stomach churn. He's sick to death of this kind of crap and Oikawa had only been publicly gone for a little over 24 hours. Why did people feel the need to send him their condolences? Because they were friends? Because as far as everyone knew he was the one who had found his lifeless body in a pool of his own blood and blueish green bile? All of the messages he had gotten were cheesy and cliche in every sense and he was sick of them. He could only imagine Suga and Akaashi were getting about three times the amount he was. Those two were probably eating it up. Well, at least Suga.

The silver haired angelic features once again graced the screen.  " _Solo se que lo extranare. Tooru era mi mejor amigo. Recuerdo cuando comiamos nueces de Corn Nuts y miramos Netflix-"_

"How many stations did that prick run to?! No wonder he wasn't in class today!" Kuroo lobbed the remote at the TV, and chuckled as it bounced off and into the unknown. Kuroo seems shockingly pleased with their current situation. He supposed that since he really had no emotional connection to Oikawa he doesn't feel the same sadness the rest of the town is wallowing in. But shouldn't there at least be some guilt? They had both stood there and watched, and he  _had_ been the one to pour the mug of death in the first place. 

"What are you smiling about?"

"Oikawa Tooru is even more popular than ever. Every station, social media platform. You can't go anywhere without seeing his name!" He flopped back against the couch with an exasperated sigh. Kenma's phone buzzed again, pulling his attention away from the budding tension. 

_**Akaashi Keiji:** _

_**can i come over i really need someone rn** _

_**Kenma:** _

_**sure. i'm at kuroo's next door. i'll let him know ur coming over** _

_**Akaashi Keiji:** _

_**thnx.** _

"Hey. Akaashi is coming over to hang out and-"

"Akaashi? Keiji?" Kuroo pushed himself up on his elbows and glowered. "The Setter?" Kenma nodded. Another loud sigh tore from Kuroo's throat. "He's still talking to you? Didn't that dirt bag in a body bag ruin your reputation or some shit like that?" 

"First of all, please never call him that again." Kuroo stuck out his tongue like a playful child. Kenma grimaced. "And second of all.....no. I don't think he did. And if he did then his sudden and gory suicide distracted everyone enough to the point that they completely forgot. Either way, I don't care. And neither should you." Kenma's phone buzzed once more and he rolled onto his side to answer yet another empty text.

Heavy footsteps filled the room. "Well, son. I didn't hear you come in." Kuroo croaked. His obnoxiously happy demeanor was fading swiftly. Kenma turned to face the man. 

He was tall. About as tall as Kuroo but without the added height from the hair gel. Every part from his hands to his steel toed boots were covered in soot and dirt. "Well hey Dad! How was work?" His voice fills a room and commands attention with its bass. The large smile he had plastered onto his face slides off.

"Miserable. Some tribe of wretched bitches doesn't want me to blow that fleabag hotel downtown. All cuz some idol group took a shit there a few years back. It's just like fuckin' Kansas. You remember Kansas?" Kuroo's hands twitch into fists on his lap.

"The...The tree?"

"The tree. Thirty 4th of July fireworks strapped to the trunk...." His eyes turn hazy as he loses himself in the memory of utter destruction. Suddenly he snaps back into the moment and the cheesy grin regrows in place of his grimace. "Well gee, Dad. I almost forgot to introduce you to my....uh, my friend." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the couch. Kenma sat up abruptly, suddenly acutely aware of how close he was to Kuroo on the couch that seemed far too large for them to be this close. 

"Kenma, my dad. Dad, this is Kenma. Lives next door." The blonde extended his hand to shake only to be coldly dismissed. "We got another friend comin' over in a little bit."

"Why? You finally done holing up in your room to jerk off alone all day?" Even his laugh his harsh from the soot clogging his throat after years of smoking and demolition. "Uh....no, Dad. I-I mean yes. Uh..." Flustered. Kuroo was flustered. That wasn't something he had seen since the night they hooked up. For once, Kenma had to be the one to speak up. "One of my friends committed suicide this weekend. One of the survivors is coming over for consoling. That's why....I'm...here...." His voice tapered out at the end, barely hitting a whisper. 

Silence hangs between the three of them like a soaked blanket slowly suffocating them with its weight. "Ah. Well, sorry to hear. I'll be in my office working out some paper work. See if i can change the judge's mind." With that he disappeared as quickly as he had came. 

_Dear Diary_

_Testuro's Dad will not be speaking at our wedding. Assuming we invite him at all._

Akaashi arrived nearly a half hour later than anticipated. That was the first sign that something was wrong. Akaashi Keiji prided himself in being nothing less than perfectly punctual to whatever event he attended. The eyeliner he had worn to school that morning before the news broke had been smudged from tears and angrily wiped clean, eyelids still showing signs of the furious scrubbing it had endured. he had even changed out of his normal fashion forward attire into more appropriate mourning clothing: sweatpants and a loose fitting sweatshirt. 

"Kenma. Hello. May I come in?"

"Yeah, of course." The pair exchanged a brief embrace, something neither of them particularly enjoyed on the best of days. "How are you holding up?" A pitiful whimper left his throat. "I could have sworn I saw him this morning. Standing by our English classroom, like he always did. But then the teacher came in and I noticed he wasn't at his seat and I-" The normal composure that defined Akaashi's character had drained from him. He choked back a sob, flopped onto the worn armchair a few feet from the couch, and curled into a tight ball. 

Kuroo gave a weak wave. His lips were pulled together in a tight line in an effort to hide his disdain for the other Setter. "How are you guys doing?" 

"I'm just fine, thanks for asking." Kenma nudged his thigh with his foot roughly. "What? I didn't know him. I just moved here." Akaashi's sad expression morphed into one of remembrance. "Oh. It's  _you._ The guy who beat up Bo and Iwaizumi last Friday." And just like that the disdain was mutual. Kenma couldn't deal with that right now. 

"I just remembered. It's getting close to dinner. I should get going. Akaashi, you can come over too. We can talk some more." The dark haired boy nodded slowly. As they got up to leave Kuroo threw out his hand and grabbed a fistful of Kenma's sweater. The two came closer and he placed a soft peck on his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow." He couldn't keep a dopey smile from crawling onto his lips.

"Yeah. See ya."

* * *

The days leading up to the funeral dragged on. Every class filled with tears and little reminders that someone so big and influential was missing from the equation. The sheer chaos his absence had caused was disorienting. Even people that had wanted nothing to do with Oikawa Tooru or the Setters were reeling from the loss. 

Akaashi hadn't been kidding when he said he had seen him. In a passing haircut, or a teal green bag. Sometimes even in the bathroom mirrors or through the screens of smoke that Suga's cigarettes had puffed out. Sometimes in that bright red blazer or his old volleyball uniform. And what terrified him the most is when he saw him with a thick mix of blue and red spilling down his chin and onto the satin sleeping kimono with glass stuck in greying skin. Milk white eyes glaring at him from the back of the classroom. Whispers in his ear during lunch. 

_"If you wear red to my funeral I'll haunt your ass."_

_"Tell Kiyoko that just because I'm dead doesn't mean she can wear scrunchies. She couldn't wear them before I decided I liked them. She can't pull them off."_

_"Out of all the people to poison why me? Why not someone who wanted it?"_

_"Why'd you kill me Kenma? Why? Why?"_

Two boys crowded in front of Kenma's tiny vanity. It was officially Thursday. Nearly five days since the horrible accident that threw their lives off course. Finally, it was time to lay the Demon King to rest. But not without the proper outfits. 

"Ken, if you want me to I can do your eyeliner." Suga finished off his own wing with the necessary flourish. "No that's okay. You already chose my outfit." Kenma did look rather out of place in the tight fitting black turtle neck and equally tight pants in a dark dark shade of grey. Suga had even thrown in an old looking ruby pendant for color. Kenma wasn't entirely sure it had originally belonged to Suga. 

"Fine. Keiji, what about you?" The dark haired boy lifted his head from the duvet. "I'm too sad for makeup. I don't wanna cry it off." Despite the lack of cosmetics, Akaashi looked as show stoppingly stunning as usual in his black crushed velvet top and loose butter yellow cardigan. Veins of deep wrinkles creased slacks that would have been pressed to perfection on any other occasion. Suga stuck his tongue out and went back to applying heavy strokes of blush across already rosy cheeks. 

"Whatever. Let Oikawa haunt your ass for coming to his funeral looking like that." He held a tube of pitch black lipstick to his mouth, hesitated, and recapped it. "At least let me do your foundation."

Oikawa Tooru had very few close friends. In fact, his list probably began at Akaashi and ended at Suga. That was why the sheer amount of people packed into the new age church building near the edge of town shook Kenma up so badly. There were people from school, of course. Daichi and the other country club kids, the volleyball team. Then there were the kids who Oikawa had never given the time of day, like Tanaka and Nishinoya and-

"Oh my God, is that who I think it is." Suga practically forced Kenma to turn his head to face Kageyama Tobio. His signature stony expression remains intact as he cradled a sobbing Hinata. The poor boy was never very good at handling tragedy, no matter how little it personally effected him. "Oh. He showed up, huh?" Akaashi muttered. "Yeah but look at what he's wearing. Are those sweatpants?"

"It's a funeral, Koushi. Not everyone is dressed to impress." Suga snorted. "More like dress to depress." Kenma took Kageyama's outfit as the perfect opportunity to slip away and locate the one person he was truly dying to see. He spotted the trademark trench coat and messy bedhead from across the surprisingly large church. His heart swelled at the sight of him, and immediately sunk at the sight of his location.

Of all the places in this huge church, he had chose to sit in the very front pew.

"The first time I met Oikawa was at youth group. I was the new pastor in town and it was my first night on the job. I came up to him and his group and said 'Hey! Good to see you again, I missed you.' and Oikawa said 'Hi. I didn't miss you.' I knew he was gonna be a lot of fun to have in group."

Soft sobs serve as the soundtrack to the pastor's heartfelt speech about how it wasn't Oikawa's fault, but societies. How he was such a joy to have in youth group and always served as a ray of sunshine during Sunday services. "When he wasn't too hungover to show up." Kenma muttered. Kuroo stifled a chuckle with his hand and quickly turned it into a fake cry when the small boy a few people down turned to them. He had nearly forgot that Oikawa had a little nephew. Was he even old enough to understand?

Behind the pastor a large screen played a slideshow of the deceased. The picture he had sent to Iwaizumi the night of the party flashed across the screen and another wave of sobs passed over the congregation. "We shouldn't cry for the deceased, but praise the good Lord for letting us experience them in the first place."

"But the Lord is the one who took him away." Kuroo let out another low chuckle. Kenma was finding it increasingly hard to focus on his boyfriend's banter with the still corpse mere feet in front of him. The coroner had done a shitty job at patching up the biggest gashes, and there was still a blueish tint to the skin on his chin. He was dressed in the sharp red suit he had worn on the first day of classes. Just as the connection crossed his mind the selfie the deceased had snapped that fateful day crossed the screen.

The Setters posed with pursed lips and raised peace signs. Each is in a different colored suit with various accessories and flawless hair. Sugawara and Akaashi are crowded behind their leader, begging to be seen in the tiny mirror they've chosen to frame the picture. Oikawa has his arm wrapped around a rather mousy looking figure, half hidden by a thick curtain of blond hair that's beginning to show dark roots at the top and buried in a thick wool sweater. His expression is blank but his eyes show a spark of confusion and terror. This time they didn't bother to edit out the caption.

_say hi to our new bestie!!!!!_

Oikawa's mother, only two seats away from him, reached over and placed a reassuring hand on Kenma's knee. Her eyes are ringed with red and her bags have never looked deeper. It's hard to imagine she's been doing anything other than crying for the past five days. He'll have to make it a point to talk to her after the service. It was the least he could do after killing her son.

The service comes to a close after a few more speeches made by teachers and students alike. They all blur together and it becomes abundantly clear how similar they all were in the end.

"I just miss him so much..."

"Like a bad dream.."

"Such a good student-"

"-friend-"

"-little brother."

Finally a swell of sad piano music filled the church and people rose to their feet. It was finally over.

"Kenma, over here!" Suga elbowed his way through the crowd of mourners to reach them at the back of the church. Kuroo instinctively wrapped his arm around the smaller boy's shoulder. "What are you doing after this?"

"I don't know. Mourning probably." Suga groaned dramatically. "You can do that later. Come out to eat at Perkins with Keiji and me. Good food soothes the soul, you know!" His stomach churned at the thought of eating anything, let alone the large greasy portions that the family restaurant promised. "No thanks, I'm not really feeling that well...."

"Huh. Guess you _should_ head home then. Wouldn't want to ruin any shoes." The blood in his body turned thick and cold as a slushie from the 7-11. So Oikawa  _had_ told somebody. Was it just Sugawara or the Setters group chat? Or even more? His mouth opened in closed, failing to speak and failing to breath. He could feel his cheeks changing from cold to furiously hot from the burning shame in his gut. 

Kuroo's grip on him tightened. "I guess I'll get you home now, okay?" It feels like he's underwater and he doesn't know why. Why the Hell is this worrying him so much now of all times? He has so much more on his mind and it's the threat of his reputation being destroyed that makes him weak and scared. He supposed the Setters were rubbing off on him after all. He barely registered strong hands guiding him through the crowd and outside until the cold rain stung his flushed cheeks. Kuroo lead him over to his motorbike and gently helped him on.

Iwaizumi and Bokuto stood side by side in front of the illuminated cross that stood proudly in the church lawn. They're silent, but the mood is apparent. Bokuto had simply there to support his friend, but ended up crying more than Hajime had during the service. He hadn't attended the wake the night before or went to visit the family, and this was his first exposure to the corpse. Seeing the corpse had really solidified everything for him. Oikawa Tooru was dead and due to be buried in a few hours.

They had known each other since middle school. They didn't really share classes, but they had been on the team together for ages. The three of them spent countless nights studying together to avoid being kicked from the team due to poor grades, which they traded in for parties and pub crawls when they hit junior year. He had kicked him awake and mixed up hangover cures on Sunday mornings so they wouldn't miss one of the many infamous services the pastor had just recounted. He had even offered to patch the two of them up after the new kid had laid into them at lunch last Friday. The memories brought forth new tears that stung his raw tear ducts as they slipped out. 

"Tadashi get back here with those!" Two of the taller freshman rushed past the mourning jocks, the shorter of the two clutching a pair of glasses in one grubby fist. "Come and get 'em, Tsuki!" The tall blond, Tsuki, blindly scrambled after his friend. In his hurry his foot fell onto the brand new patent leather loafers and left a garrish scuff. "Hey!" Hajime screeched. He had bought these, the exact pair Oikawa had bought, specifically for the funeral. Bokuto could not let this injustice go unavenged.

"I'll hold his arms." 

The motorbike sped past, slowing only for a moment to take in the scene before the cross. Bokuto held up a boy who was far taller than him while Iwaizumi drove his fist into the poor boy's stomach over and over again. Kuroo's lips twisted into a sneer. Turns out Oikawa really had been the only thing holding back the true awful personalities the jocks harbored. He double checked that Kenma was holding on tight before speeding off into the town.

* * *

Kenma wanted to sink into himself and disappear forever. He wanted to return to the embryonic state where nothing mattered in his premature mind. Maybe then he would be free from the nagging guilt that had finally burst the second his body hit his bed. One hand hung limply off the side which Kuroo had gently and lovingly grasped and held close to his chest. He could feel the soft heartbeat in his palm.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Kuroo had only been in town for a week. He had no emotional connection to anyone in this town, especially not the boy who threatened to destroy the one he loved over something as petty as a drunken mistake. He hadn't even really felt all that sorry watching his fruitless struggle for life after downing the death cocktail he had cooked up. But he knew how much all of this was hurting Kenma. The little blond hadn't shed a tear since Saturday. Now, in the comforts of his own room, he finally reached the level of comfort necessary to let it all loose.

A heavy sob tore from his throat and filled the little attic bedroom, followed by another and another. Kuroo moved closer and rested his chin on the bed, arms slung over his trembling frame. Holding him and letting him vent all of the emotions he had been dying to hide for five whole days. "He's gone. He's really really gone. I'm never gonna see him again, we'll never....we'll never do anything. No more lunch time polls, no more fashion tips or sleepovers. He's just gone for fucking ever!" 

Now Kuroo had moved up to join him on the bed, fully embracing him. He rubbed small circles into his back and shushed him softly. "It'll be okay, kitten. It's going to be okay."

"We killed him, Kuroo. He was my best friend and we killed him. We never got to say we were sorry. We never...." he whimpered. "I never got to say goodbye."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha did u guys know that my best friend died this year and that i still remember his funeral in vivid detail and i based all the emotions off of that day haha wild right
> 
> i gotta lay down


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A late night text gone wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gettin darker lmao  
> im trying to pad the run time of this fic without dragging it on forever and like the more i write the farther it gets from like the original plot and its just a mess lol  
> be sure to comment and leave kudos i crave validation

_"If we ever broke up, Iwa-chan would never be able to move on." The other three Setters let out a collective groan. Whenever they hung out Oikawa always found a way to railroad their conversations to one of two things: volleyball and his boy toy. "Well, think about it! I'm the top of the chain at Sejioh. He's not into older guys and there is no possible way he'd ever do better! Plus," He swiveled and faced them. "I doubt we'll ever break up."_

_"Then why bring it up?"  Suga growled, burying himself even deeper in the latest issue of whatever teen magazine he was invested in this month. "Just thinking about it, I guess." Kenma let out a small uninterested noise. "Well why bother thinking about it? If it will never happen?" Suddenly a chill ran down his spine. It was as if the temperature in Oikawa's room had dropped all the way down to zero. The soft noises of pages flipping and Akaashi's thumbs typing had dulled into silence. "Because it could." His voice sounded so hollow, echoing like a cave inside his skull. Kenma pushed himself into an upright position._

_Suga and Akaashi had vanished. Oikawa sat with his back turned to him, stiff as a board. His hand reached up and ruffled his already mussed up hair. Thick red blood slid from large gashes lined with shards of glass down the length of his arm. "Because it could." He repeated. Like a scratched CD, repeating the same lyrics over and over again. Slowly he turned to face Kenma. Bright blue foam and spittle dripped and mixed with bile and blood and stained his cherry red blazer. The same blazer her had worn when they met. A large chunk of glass protrudes from his neck. "Because you did this. Why would you do this to me?"_

_Kenma tried to scuttle away from the horror before him. His palms were coated in sweat and slid uselessly against the surface that had once been satin, but now had become smooth glass. Oikawa twisted fully and lunged forward, picking him up by his baggy hoodie. He hadn't worn it since that day, either. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHY WOULD YOU KILL ME?!" He slammed him down against the glass once, twice, three times before it shattered. Bits of glass flew around them, hovering for a moment in the air before stabbing into Kenma's chest._

The vibrations in his hand pulled him out of slumber. He didn't remember dozing off, but he had been so exhausted after the funeral he wasn't surprised. Just over the edge of his bed lay a mess of raven colored hair. Tetsuro snored softly, a smile creeping onto Kenma's face. He reached out to ruffle it only to be interrupted by another buzz. The bright light shone directly into his eyes, giving him no choice but to answer. 

**_Akaashi Keiji_ **

**_kenma can u come out_ **

**_pls its super important_ **

He groaned. He didn't have read read receipts on, Akaashi wouldn't have to know he was ignoring him. Just before he could toss his phone aside it buzzed again

_**Akaashi Keiji** _

_**i really need u right now** _

He couldn't ignore this. Not after everything he had seen the other boy go through. Not after what happened with Oikawa.

_**Kozume Kenma** _

_**alright where r u** _

"Tetsuro. Tetsuro, wake up." He reached over and shook his boyfriend's shoulder. He let out a little whimper, bleary eyes peering up at him with a pout. "What's up? You okay?" 

"I got a text, I have to go help Akaashi." Suddenly he was no longer a sleepy innocent boy. His expression hardened and lips twisted into a scowl. "Another fucking Setter? Kenma, they've hurt you enough. Oikawa alone hurt you enough." Ugh. He was still on that? Sure he had just had one of the worst nightmares of his life centered around the boy, but it was partially his fault. If he had just been more careful....

"They're my friends. Besides, I already have enough nightmares. If something happens to him, the blood would be on my hands because he said he needed me but I didn't help."

"At least let me come with you?" The offer is tempting. As much as he wants to spend time with the man he loves, he remembers in vivid detail how their last meeting with a Setter went. "Sorry. I think this is just a me and Akaashi thing." Speak of the devil, his phone buzzed once more, providing him with a location. Kenma pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "I have to go. I'll text you tomorrow."

 The walk to the cemetery was a long one. He almost wished he had taken up Kuroo's offer of a ride just to avoid the ache in his tired legs. Akaashi's beat up yellow buggy sat in the middle of a dark dirt path, the headlights running. The handsome Setter sat in the front seat, typing away on his phone much more casually than one who had just stresstexted their friend four messages begging for help should be. 

Keiji jumped at the soft sound of Kenma's finger tapping against the glass. "Hey! You made it!"

"Yeah, of course I did. What's wrong, why are you parked in the cemetery by yourself?"

"I'm not by myself. Suga and Iwaizumi are out here somewhere. And so is-" A sudden weight slammed against the other side of the car, hard enough to rock it slightly. "Bokuto. We all followed Tooru's family out here for the burial and decided to stay and pour one out over his grave. Y'know, from his homies?" He flashed a peace sign to emphasize the last word. "But Bokuto and Iwaizumi drank it all before we could."

A few feet away lie a fresh patch of freshly moved dirt. He felt his skin shudder at the thought of his former friend lying beneath it. His train of thought was derailed by amber eyes peeking over the hood of the car at him. "Hey hey hey, Kozume!" He looks out of place in his wrinkly suit, tie and expensive dress shoes discarded carelessly long ago. He can see the flush on his cheeks in the dim light from the car. "I've waited ten whole beers for you!" He let out a giggle at his own terrible pun.

"Akaashi, what's going on?"

"Like I said, they got super trashed. Then Suga pulled Iwaizumi off somewhere, and then Bokuto wouldn't stop touching me and I got sick of it, so I kicked him out and texted you." 

"Why me, of all people?" 

"Well, you've been such a good friend to me lately. You let me come over whenever I was sad or lonely, I figured you wouldn't mind taking care of him until he sobers up?" Actually, he did mind. He minded a whole fucking lot. Kenma Kozume was a kind person, when he wanted to be. But he was not down with being groped the entire night by a tipsy high school senior. "Okay. I'm leaving now." He turned to march back the way he came, only to be blocked by Bokuto's barrel chest and large arms boxing him in. 

"I told you I'm done, Hajime!" Sugawara Koushi stormed over the small hill, avoiding headstones as he made his way back to the car. The outfit he had so precariously picked out earlier that day was disheveled and covered in dirt and grass stains. Seconds after he slid into the passengers seat and slammed the door, an equally disheveled Iwaizumi Hajime stumbled into view. Bokuto let out a sound that could only be described as a happy tweet at the sight of his friend. 

Iwaizumi looked like shit. There was no sugar coating it. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, face both pale from crying himself to exhaustion and flushed from the alcohol. "Please don't leave me, I need you." It was strange to hear such vulnerable words coming from the mouth of the volleyball team's captain. "God, whatever  _Iwa-chan._ You just want something to stick your sad sorry dick in because Tooru isn't around to do it anymore!" The harsh words from the other Setter were not as shocking. The use of Oikawa's patented nickname for his boy toy was a bit more so. 

Kenma made an attempt to duck under Bokuto's arms, only for them to grab him and spin him roughly towards the captain. "Hey hey, don't be sad! Looky who we have here!" Kenma squirmed in his grip to no avail. Before he knew it he was being sandwiched between the two incredibly buff boys, one giggling drunkenly into one ear and the other wetting his shoulder with snot and tears. He didn't know which disgusted him more. The more he tried to wriggle himself free the tighter their hold on him became. "Akaashi! Suga! A little help here?" 

"Sorry, Ken! Super duper busy!" Suga cooed, lifting his phone and snapping a quick pic to immortalize the occasion for the next 24 hours. Akaashi simply shrugged, clicking the locks on his car down. Light breathes brushed over his neck and he cringed at the feeling. "Iwaizumi, stop it. Both of you please get off of me." 

"Rather get off to you, babe." Bokuto once again found himself laughing at his own joke. Kenma's sharp elbow burying itself in his stomach seemed to have no effect in his drunken state. "You smell like he did. Like pine and roses." The way he spoke renewed the ache in his heart, but did little to deter his attempt at escape. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Suga reach into the back seat and retrieve a bottle of something. Booze most likely. He pushed against Iwaizumi's chest as hard as he could, sending the captain tumbling back enough to allow him exit. He made a beeline for the car. "Give me that."

"Give you what?"

"Don't play dumb, give me the bottle." He managed to jam half of his skinny body into the window before either of the boys inside could roll up the windows and made a grab for the alcohol. "Paws off! I'm surprised you even want this shit after everything that Oikawa told us, and I do mean _everythi_ -"

"Could you be a goddamn decent person for two seconds and just help me out, Koushi?!" All three of them are taken aback by the uncharacteristic snap. The Setters really were starting to wear off on him after all this time. Without another moment of hesitation he snatched the bottle from his hands and swiveled to face the captain and the ace. "Look! Booze! Drink!" He shoved it into Bokuto's chest with more force than necessary. "Oh thank you so much!"

"You're so very welcome!" He shot one last defiant middle finger towards the car before trudging off into the darkness. He waited until he had put a good distance between them before whipping about his phone and dialing a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Tetsuro? Could you please come get me? I made a mistake." 

"Sure thing, babe. Tell me where you're at and we can go get a slushie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whips* i didn't lose interest in this i just got hella busy  
> sorry this is such a short chapter, but like yknow  
> fuck


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things keep going from bad to worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *doesn't update this fic in several months*  
> Me literally every time I check my email: who the Fuck is still reading The Setters and actively leaving kudos??
> 
> Thank you guys for still enjoying this Garbage Story! Sorry I haven't updated in a long long time, I've been very bust with personal life and dont get a whole lot of writing done these days! I hope you like this update and are still excited for more in the future! I plan on completing this fic, even if it takes me a while haha

_Dear Diary: I have some regrets. Turns out the only person who actually had any real power at this school was Tooru. And now that he's dead, everyone and everything is fair game._

Have you ever felt like every single person in a room was talking about you before you entered? Kenma Koizumi didn't. At least, he didn't until Thursday morning. He pushed his way through the crowded hall to his locker, same routine as always. It wasn't until he realized the telltale chatter would die off into clusters of murmuring as he passed that he even noticed that something was wrong. 

In life, Tooru's locker was only two away from his own, right in the center of the hall. Some called it destiny, others called it bribing the principal. Kenma had called it the worst  way to start his mornings. But now it gave him the perfect opportunity to fully absorb the gossip all around him. It also gave him a front row seat to the remaining Setters clean out their former leader's things. 

Rather, he watched as Keiji pulled things out, stared at them sadly, only for Koushi to yank whatever it was from his hands and toss it into the garbage can they had taken from a nearby classroom. "That was Tooru's favorite watch!" 

"Why even bother, it's not like either of us are going to wear it, Keiji. It's all trash anyways."

"That is so rude!" Tooru shrieked. For a moment Kenma looked around, hoping that the bloody figure hovering just over his shoulder was visible to literally anyone else. But, as he had discovered last night shortly after Tetsuro dropped him off, he was the only one. He supposed this was a pretty fair punishment. While he technically didn't really kill Tooru, he didn't really feel bad about all of this. Well, not as bad as he should? He could feel much worse about everything, that was for sure.

Koushi pulled out a chunky ruby bracelet, wrapping it around his wrist and pursing his lips in thought. Tooru sneered. "What a little poser! Red totally clashes with his skin tone." 

"What are you staring at?" Koushi hissed. Kenma faltered. Had he been staring? "Uh, nothing. Just....red totally clashes with your skin tone." Tooru let out a short bark of laughter at his remark, even though he was just restating what he had already said. "You know you two still owe me an apology for treating me like that last night." 

"Well we're busy right now. Cleaning out Tooru's locker, show some respect." With that Koushi pulled out a few polaroids. They showed simpler times, most of them focusing on Tooru while Koushi and Keiji took up the background. In a few Kenma is there looking awkward and unhappy. Koushi moved to dump them into the trash, but Keiji intercepted him. "No no no! I want these!"

"Well if you're keeping something then I should get to keep something! I was Tooru's friend too!" Their careless tossing quickly turned to sifting through the leftover junk to find something that could claim as their own, mementos and keepsakes for Keiji and accessories for Koushi. 

"I was his friend, too? Does that mean I get something?" Kenma had meant it half sarcastically. A catty way to call them out for how disrespectful and childish they were being over their dead friend's belongings. To his surprise, Suga reached into the trash can and fished out the watch he had so carelessly tossed out. "Here. Tooru would want you to have this. He always said you can't accessorize for shit." 

"This is awful!" Tooru croaked. "Tell them to stop touching my stuff, Kenma! Kenma! Ken! Ma!" 

"Would you shut up?!" 

"You shut up!" Koushi snapped. "You know, you're not even Tooru's friend, you're just some little nobody who can forge notes!" He returned to rifling through Tooru's locker, his eyes suddenly lighting up in wonder. He pulled out a bright red scrunchie, something Tooru had received from his sister. She had worn it when she attended school here, and had passed it on to him as a sign of his position here. He hadn't worn it in weeks, claiming it just didn't go with any of his outfits. That didn't stop Koushi, however, who carelessly ripped the chunky bracelet from his wrist and slid the scrunchie on in its place as fake rubies scattered across the hallway.

"What is your problem, Suga?" 

"Shut up Kenma. Oikawa Tooru couldn't handle the power that comes with this. But I can. It's up to me to pick up where he left off. Besides," his nose turned upwards haughtily. "If I were you, I'd worry less about me and more about the news about your little threesome spreading around." 

"Threesome?" Kenma hadn't even noticed Tetsuro approaching until his voice cut through like a sudden shock. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing! Nothing happened last night, there was no threesome!" The look of hurt that Tetsuro gave him hit him harder than any of the rumors swirling around him. "You were with me last night, you know that."

"I seem to remember it differently." A new voice quipped. Bokuto Koutarou slung his arm over Kenma's shoulder and held on tight, no matter how hard he tried to worm his way out. "Don't we, Hajime?" Just as his friend had, the other athlete appeared out of no where and boxed the smaller boy in, effectively cutting Tetsuro off from him. 

"That's bullshit and you know it! Keiji, you were there! You'll back me up, right?" The other Setter would surely help him, right? He wasn't like Koushi and the volleyball players, he was close to him. He was kind. Keiji pursed his lips and tilted his head in thought. "No....I don't seem to remember. Sorry." His lips twisted into a thin line. "Slut." 

Kenma felt as if he had been punched. He didn't know why he ever thought Akaashi Keiji wasn't just as fake as the rest of them. Before he could stop it tears began to fall down his cheeks. "You assholes can't say that shit to him!" Tetsuro hollered, moving in with a fury in his eyes. He grabbed Bokuto by the shoulder, whipping him around and throwing a nasty looking left hook. To everyone's surprise, he dodged it. Instead he countered with a strong headbutt, knocking Tetsuro back a few paces where Hajime tangled his hand in his coat and yanked him into a punch. 

It was awful to watch as the two athletes descended on him like a pair of starving vultures diving into a kill. The amount of blood pouring from his nose made it truly feel like watching predators devour their prey while the rest of the savanna howled and cheered them on. Tetsuro barely had the chance to fight back before the two of them had completely pounded him into the linoleum. Only when the first morning bell rang did they let up, the hall emptying at a rapid pace, Koushi hurling one last "That's what you get, whore." Kenma's way before strutting to class, red scrunchie clear as day on his wrist.

Kenma fell to his knees before his battered boyfriend. He helped him sit up slowly, wiping the blood from his now broken nose. "Why did you do that, Tetsu?"

"Because I can't stand to see you cry." He quirked his bloody lips into a sad smile. "Are you okay, baby?" Kenma swiped away the fresh wave of tears that spilled down his face at the question. 

"I'm-I'm fine....I'll be more fine when we get you to the nurse." The two of them pulled each other together, limping to the nurse's office hand in hand. 

* * *

 

"We should get back at those assholes." Tetsuro quipped later that evening. The couple were sprawled across his couch, the elder's nose covered with a thick bandage. "Really make them pay what they've done to you. To everyone at that hellhole high school."

"And how would we do that?" Kuroo tapped his chin in thought. 

"I _might_ have a few ideas."  

They spent their Friday evening plotting. They talked and schemed for hours and hours, well after the sun had set and still when it began to rise again. Saturday morning they began putting their plan into action. The first part was the hardest was acquiring the right materials. They had to wait until Mr. Kuroo had left for the day, taking his loud mouth and weekend hangover with him. It took a good hour of rummaging through his father's closet to finally find what he was looking for. 

Kenma didn't like the weight of the gun in his hands. He didn't like the cool metal against his skin, or the faint smell of gunpowder left over from its last use. "Are they...real?"

"It is. But we're filling them with ich luge bullets." Tetsuro held up a small silver shell. It looked entirely too real. "My grandpa got them during World War II. They were super advanced for the time period, y'know? They were used to fake suicides and-"

"So they won't actually kill them, right?" Kenma snapped. 

"No. They won't actually kill them. It will just knock them out long enough to make it look like it did. Speaking of, did you get it?" Kenma sighed. It had taken some digging, but he had managed to find the note that Tooru had forced him to forge along with the original essay that he had copied the handwriting from. It felt weird to see this again, as if he hadn't seen it in ages even though it had only been one week. 

"I don't know why I need to write a note if it's all fake."

"To make it look authentic. By the time they wake up they'll be the laughingstock of the school. What do you have so far?"

_"To who it may concern,_

 

_Koutarou and I died when I realized I could not be in this world without my true love, and he without his best friend. We knew that this terrible, beer guzzling redneck town would be ununderstanding of the feelings we had for Oikawa Tooru and each other, how the love we shared was better than any well timed spike on the court and-"_

"Yeah yeah yeah, that's all very poetic. I don't think that ununderstanding is a real word."

"This is supposedly written by Iwaizumi Hajime and Bokuto Koutarou. They aren't exactly the brightest balls on the court."

"That's not a real phrase, either, baby." With this he reached into his own bag, fishing out a few items which he carelessly dumped into the bed. 

"We got some sports magazines, a dime bag of weed, a half empty bottle of the finest wine two depressed teenagers could buy, and to top it off some of Oikawa's stuff that we snagged from his locker, including that watch that Sugawara gave you."

"I don't think we should throw that one in there. Won't he recognize it and like, tell the police or something?" 

"Bold of you assume Sugawara Koushi is capable of remembering anything that doesn't involve him personally. Trust me, this will be convincing. All we need now is the victims." 

Late Sunday night Iwaizumi's cellphone pinged. It wasn't a number he recognized, but he answered anyways. "Hello? Hajime?" The soft voice on the line said. He perked up when he recognized it immediately. 

"Koizume Kenma, as I live and breath." At this, Bokuto perked up as well, twisting from his position at the foot of the bed to stare up at him. 

"Remember what you were saying about me on Friday? I just wanted to know how you knew about my biggest fantasy?" It felt wrong to hear such an innocent boy say something so sinful, he supposed he was probably dreaming. "Y'know, having two a-at once?"

"Uh, lucky guess, haha?" If Tooru was alive he would absolutely kill him for this. But the light airy laugh that the Junior lets out is almost worth the guilt. 

"Well, if you want to make that silly rumor come true, why don't you and Bokuto meet me in the woods behind the school tomorrow? At dawn." 

"O-Okay. Yeah, yeah we can do that. For sure. See you then, Ken." His phone all but slid out of his hand onto the sheets beneath him. Koutarou let out an excited whoop. "Dude! We just struck goddamned gold!" 

"I can't believe those idiots fell for that!" Tetsuro hooted. In an instant he tackled his boyfriend onto his bed, pressing soft kisses up and down his cheeks and neck. "Now we wait. At dawn, we ride baby!" A quiet hum left Kenma's throat. He had a sudden thought, something he had considered for nearly a week but had never felt the courage to say until now. 

"I love you." 

Kuroo inhaled sharply, nosing along the column of his neck. "Love you too, babe. Our love is fucking God."

* * *

 

Dawn came much sooner than they expected. To be fair, they had gone to be rather late. And Kenma hadn't really slept much. Anxiety had punched him awake every time he had even considered drifting off, no matter how tightly he curled his body against Tetsuro's. No matter how many times he told himself it was all just a prank. 

They arrived early to set up, Kuroo stashing the bag of false evidence out of sight while Kenma drew two circles in the dirt . "Do you think they'll really come?" 

"I'd bet on it. In fact-" He held up a finger, indicating that the two of them should be silent. They could hear the faint sound of hoots and hollers coming closer and closer with each passing second. He quickly pulled out the other pistol and slipped it into Kenma's hands, who stuffed it into the back of his jeans. "Remember to smile, baby." He muttered as he ducked behind a tree. 

If he didn't know any better, Kenma would think that the two volleyball players were a bit tipsy when they arrived. "Heeeeeey Ken!" Bokuto cheered much too loudly for the early hour. Beside him Hajime looked at him in awe. Turns out he also didn't quite believe that Kenma would show up. "So, do we just like whip it out and start or-?"

"Whoa whoa whoa. Take it slow, boys. Go stand in one of the circles and strip for me. Slowly." He bit his lip in a way he hoped was somehow seductive. It seemed to work. Both boys rushed to their places and began stripping down as slowly as they could while containing their eagerness. Suddenly Iwaizumi stopped. "What about you? Are you stripping?" 

"Well, I was hoping you two could rip my clothes off of me,  _Iwa-chan._ " The nickname felt like toxic waste in his mouth. He knew very well he shouldn't use it, that if Oikawa's spirit was somehow watching this whole fiasco he would be channeling all of his phantasmal energy to destroy Kenma where he stood. But it does the trick regardless, Iwaizumi shucking his pants wordlessly. 

"Okay boys. Count of three. One..." A wide grin spread over Bokuto's flushed cheeks. His hands were twitching excitedly at his sides. "Two..." Iwaizumi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, worrying his lip between his teeth. Kenma slowly began reaching behind him. 

"Three." Tetsuro chimed in as he ducked into view seemingly out of no where. It all seemed to happen so fast. He fired the first shot, striking Iwaizumi right between the eyes. The captain toppled like a felled tree, hitting the dirt with a muffled  _thud._  In an instant Kenma whipped out his own pistol and fired, the bullet whizzing over Bokuto's shoulder and imbedding in the tree trunk behind him. The ace let out a terrified scream, pausing only for a moment before darting off into the woods.

"Did you miss him completely?!" Tetsuro yelled. 

"Yeah, I-I think so? But the look on his face was totally worth it." 

"Stay here. I'll go get him." Without another word Tetsuro took off after the athlete. And in those moments spent alone with Iwaizumi Hajime, Kenma's stomach begins to sink with fear. Something's wrong.

He's matching his pace, jaw clenched and eyes focused as they weaved between the trees, early morning fog doing very little to obstruct their path. They ran and ran and ran, ran for what felt like miles until they reached a small hill leading to a chain link fence. The fence that separated the school's outdoor courtyard from the forest beyond. Bokuto looked around frantically for an opening of any kind, a slick sheen of sweat covering his body. With no other options left he began scaling the fence.

"Get off the fucking fence, Koutarou." Kuroo growled. 

"Why are you doing this?! Why did you kill my best friend?!" Bokuto wailed, his efforts to climb the chain link proving fruitless. 

"Hajime? Hajime, come on. Wake up." A scared whisper left Kenma's throat. Still, the older male lay motionless in the bloody grass. 

"Y-You know, I think we could be real good friends, Tetsu! Yeah yeah yeah, i-in another life, I bet we're besties!" Bokuto babbled. Anything to distract the maniac before him. Anything to buy just a little more time. The dark haired boy's lips quirked into an uninterested grimace. 

"Guess we'll never know." 

Kenma flinched at the second  _ **BANG!**_ that echoed through the woods. Moments later, Tetsuro returned with a limp Bokuto Koutarou slung over his shoulders. Blood dripped down his spine, a very clear exit wound making its home right where his heart once beat. Tetsuro carelessly tossed him into the dirt beside Hajime. "Come on, I thought I heard someone out in the woods. We gotta ditch this coat too. Shame, I thought it looked kinda hot on me." He chuckled.

Slowly and wordlessly Kenma retrieved the forged note from his back pocket and placed it in Iwaizumi's left hand and the gun in the other. "Koutarou is right handed, too." He murmured. They scattered the "evidence", shared a quick kiss, and dashed off to safety just as a pair of disgruntled security guards burst into the clearing. They were just within in earshot to hear the soft "Son of a bitch, not another one." 

* * *

They watched the sunrise from the car they had borrowed from Tetsuro's father for the day. In the moment it had seemed easier to transport their things to the scene in a car than on the bike. Now Kenma was glad. He felt isolated from the outside world, tucked in tight and safe from the heinous crime they had just committed. "We killed them, didn't we?" 

Kuroo said nothing.

"I can't believe this. I can't believe  _you._ Ich Luge bullets?! I'm such an idiot!" He cried. He slammed his fist on the dashboards, hot tears squeezing out and streaming down his cheeks. In the driver's seat Tetsuro slowly lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before releasing the smoke out the cracked window. Kenma didn't know he smoked. He wondered what else he didn't know about his lover. 

Other cars were starting to pull into the lot. Mostly teachers, some cops, a single news van. Funny how fast people seemed to arrive when tragedy strikes. "They made you cry, so we made them pay. This is what you wanted."

"I did not want them dead."

"You did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"...Did not." 

"Okay, listen. They spread nasty rumors about you, they made you fucking  _sob._ Can those dicks do that shit to you now?"

"No....but you can." 

Another half hour passed before students began arriving, only to be turned away by the police guarding the perimeter. Through the open driver's side window Kenma sees Koushi and Keiji exit Koushi's car, the older sporting a vivacious crimson sport coat and freshly pressed black slacks. A physical show of his new found power. Before they had even taken two steps towards the school Nishinoya Yuu bound up to them giddily. 

"Hey guys, didn't you hear? School's cancelled today!"

"What?! Why, what happened?" 

"Someone said that they found Koutarou and Hajime's bodies back in the woods behind the school. 'Parrently they had some weirdo suicide pact. They're saying we might get a full three days off!" With that the shorter boy bound off, racing to spread the good news of their long weekend to even more unsuspecting students.

Even from across the parking lot Kenma can hear the wail of absolute sorrow that tore from Keiji's throat as he fell to his knees, his usual stoic and collected self completely torn to shreds by the news.

Kuroo flicked the butt of his cigarette out of the window and rolled it up, expression blank and unfeeling. "Let's bail, Ken. We got the whole day off, after all."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wELP

**Author's Note:**

> the reason Oikawa calls Iwaizumi "Iwa-chan" even though this takes place in a more american setting is because he's a weeb


End file.
